


Loki Gets Married

by auntieomega



Series: A Marvelish Romance [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal Beads, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Arguments, Avenger Loki, Bloody Anal Fisting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Breathplay, Brother Feels, Cock & Ball Torture, Daddy Issues, Diva Loki, Family Planning, Gags, Gay Rights, Groomzilla Loki, Jealousy, M/M, Makeup Sex, Male Slash, Marriage Equality, Masochist Loki, Mean Sif, Mommy Issues, Object Insertion, Odin's Bad Parenting, Paganism, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Past Violence, Pets, Rimming, Romance, Same-Sex Marriage, Sick Loki, Sweet/Hot, Unusual Sexual Position, Urine play (mentioned), Weak Frigga, Wedding Planning, Weddings, Whipping (belt)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3877963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auntieomega/pseuds/auntieomega
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Bruce are getting married, but as they prepare for the Big Day, terrible arguments and problems with family and friends threaten their relationship. How they navigate these obstacles sets the foundation for their future happiness.</p><p>*The first chapter has some overlap with “Loki’s Fresh Start,” but you don’t need to have read that story, or any of the others in the series, to enjoy this one. (Although you’ll probably enjoy it more if you have read some of the others….)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IceNChrome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceNChrome/gifts), [KlaatuDuLak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlaatuDuLak/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bruce and Loki - 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1548596) by [IceNChrome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceNChrome/pseuds/IceNChrome). 



> Reposted 05/04/15
> 
> Warning: Although Odin, Frigga, and Sif are inspired by the Marvel characters, their portrayals in this story are just an interpretation of the canon characters and not meant to suggest other interpretations are not valid. Hela is inspired by Norse mythology and Marvel, but probably almost qualifies as an OC.

“They’re laughing.” Loki couldn’t keep the petulance from his voice. He refused to look over his shoulder at Tony and Bruce, drinking merrily on the balcony outside Tony’s main living area. Assholes. Tony—billionaire, playboy, genius. And Bruce—gay scientist and Loki’s stupid, stupid, stupid numb-nuts-fucking-asshole boyfriend. He chased his bitter thoughts with a large swallow of pinot noir.

Pepper, sitting on the sleek couch with her legs curled beside her and a glass of wine in her hand, wrinkled her forehead in sympathy. “I’m sure it’s not about you. You know how they get when they’re together.”

“Yeah, the fucking twats.” Loki pouted in his wine. He kept replaying bits of the argument they had had earlier that day in his head. “I can’t believe Bruce wouldn’t let me have that chicken. I want a companion animal. I want that chicken!” He felt on the verge of tears suddenly. “He doesn’t really love me. He doesn’t love me at all.”

“I don’t believe that.” Pepper leaned toward him and rested her hand on his. “You don’t believe that either.”

Loki stilled his emotions with a deep breath. “He doesn’t love me as much as I love him.”

“How can you say that?” Pepper almost sounded amused.

Loki frowned at her. “He doesn’t want to marry me.”

“Has he said that?”

“Not exactly…. But I’ve been giving him all kinds of hints. He just ignores them.”

“Have you asked him if he wants to get married?”

“I want him to ask me.” Loki stared at the wine as he swirled it in his glass.

Pepper smiled, but looked confused. “Why?”

Loki couldn’t make eye contact. “He’s a superhero. I’m…an ex-prisoner and…. He needs to be the one—I need it to come from him.” He drained half his glass.

In the ensuing silence, Pepper sipped her drink and shifted her legs slightly. She rested her head on the arm propped against the back of the couch, her face brightening as she looked at him. “What are you doing tomorrow? Why don’t we have a spa day?”

Loki sniffed in agreement as he spread his fingers and examined his cuticles. “I could use a mani pedi. I suppose some kind of wrap could be nice.” But the lure of spa treatments couldn’t cheer him. “I’ve never been in love before—not like this. It’s like I’ve wandered so far from the known realms, I can’t recognize anything anymore, and all I have to guide my way is some imaginary thread—delicate as something a spider might spin. I want to hold to something more tangible, something less fragile. Even if it’s just an illusion that it can’t break, I need that illusion.”

Pepper stared at him, her eyes dark and glassy. “He needs to know you feel this way.”

Loki sighed in exasperation. “I don’t see how he can’t. When he says ‘l love you,’ I always say, ‘I love you more.’ I’ve been playing this song by The Magnetic Fields that says ‘you should give me wedding rings,’ over and over. For a brilliant man, he’s remarkably fucking stupid.”

Pepper shook her head and refilled his glass. She raised her own and said, “To stupid brilliant men and the fools who love them.”

***

_Two weeks later_

Bruce had never seen Loki so happy. Two weeks had passed since the last time they had visited Stark Tower together, but so much had changed. Loki was now the proud pet-parent to a fluffy white chicken named Daenerys, had been accepted as one of the Avengers, and was soon to be his lawfully wedded husband. He watched his trickster, on the other side of Tony’s spacious living area, talk to Pepper with wild, excited gesticulations. Seeing Loki in such high spirits made his entire being smile.

He managed to tear his gaze away as Tony walked up to him. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me to get the roof set up for that chicken,” Bruce told Tony. “You wouldn’t believe how much Loki loves her.”

He barely heard Tony’s reply. He was watching Loki again, as always, and his mind was filled with all things Loki. He could focus on little else these days. It had all happened so fast—six months of living together as mentor and student, another four months as lovers—and now this. How had this happened? He had resigned himself to a solitary life, to having—as his emotional apex—an occasional rut with a casual acquaintance.

And then along came Loki with his clarion style and his whimsical spirit—and his heartbreaking sweetness. Loki, who somehow understood his wounds the way no one ever had. Even the ones Loki didn’t know about—Bruce had little doubt he would understand those, too, whenever Bruce felt ready to share them.

Loki was perfect—divine. Loki, Loki, Loki. This beautiful young—young-looking—god who, for reasons unfathomable, professed to love him. It was all too good to be true. At any moment, Bruce expected Loki to bounce in front of him, scream ‘mischief’ and break the spell—turning these ridiculous plans for a wedding into a pumpkin pulled by mice.

He startled as fingers snapped in front of his face. He batted Tony’s hand aside as the inventor laughed. “Not really a good idea to surprise me,” he reminded Tony with an embarrassed smile.

“You’ve got to get me some of that Jotun spunk,” said Tony. “You’re fucking stoned all the fucking time.”

Bruce smirked and mimicked Tony’s speaking cadence. “Are you trying to make me fucking cry?” His gaze turned to Loki like the needle of a compass seeking north. “That would be too tragic—if all of this was simply because Loki’s semen contained hallucinogenic properties.”

“Nah, you’re just a sorry, dick-whipped bastard.” Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “Married! Fuck. Do you have any idea the rash of shit I’m in for tonight?”

“We made the announcement tonight just to fuck with you.”

Tony’s hand waved in Bruce’s face. “My eyes are here, Dr. Jekyll.” He indicated his face. “You make me feel like a chick.”

Bruce gave Tony a coy smile. “I’ve been told that before.”

Tony knocked against Bruce’s shoulder, chuckling. Bruce laughed too. He hadn’t even finished his first drink, but he felt so relaxed, as if the Hulk and the thick mushroom cloud of sadness he had lived with most of his life were gone—and it felt wonderful. Then Thor rushed up and grabbed Bruce by both arms. “I don’t know what he told you, but you don’t have to do this,” said Thor.

Bruce shook Thor off of him. “What are you talking about?”

“No law on Asgard requires you to marry him because he’s pregnant.”

Tony burst out laughing, spraying eighty-year-old scotch. Bruce stared at Thor, nonplused. “Thor, there’s so much wrong with that sentence—I don’t even know where to begin.”

The big man shifted his weight uneasily. “So, he’s not pregnant?”

“Of course not,” said Bruce. “That’s biologically impossible.”

“Ohhh,” Thor said, his eyes big. “It’s possible. Wait. Now I truly am confused. Loki’s not pregnant—and you want to marry him?”

Bruce and Tony exchanged wary glances. Loki crashed the conversation. “I’m not pregnant,” he snapped at Thor, “you blundering ox fart with balls.”

Bruce’s vision closed on everything but Loki. “You can get pregnant?”

“Yes,” said Loki. “But I’m not right now.”

Bruce felt a sudden weight in his chest. “You can get pregnant? You can have children?”

“He has several already,” said Thor.

“Loki,” said Bruce, his voice small and dry in his mouth, as he hoped at any moment his trickster would squeal that this was all some cruel prank, “you have children?”

Loki flew an angry stride toward Thor with his hands balled into fists. “Shut up! It’s not your place to tell him such things!”

Loki’s anger didn’t faze Thor. “Someone needs to tell the truth!”

Bruce touched one of Loki’s stiff arms. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

Loki scowled at him. “Yes! I have to cast a spell—except for sometimes when I don’t—but that’s beside the point, really. There has to be a fertilization stoma—”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell him,” said Thor. “Avenger or not, you’re still the god of lies.”

“Bruce,” Loki said his name softly. Worry etched his lovely face. He pressed an elegant hand to Bruce’s chest. “I’m _not_ pregnant. This isn’t a big deal.”

“We talked about this when Christian and Santiago adopted Clarice. We agreed not to have kids.”

“We agreed not to adopt kids.”

“See?” said Thor. “That’s what he does.”

“I don’t want children,” Bruce said. “I’ve never wanted children.”

Loki smiled at him. “You’ll want my children. And we’ll have so much fun making them.”

“Loki,” Bruce whispered. He couldn’t breathe. Everyone had gathered around them.

Pepper pressed next to him, rubbing an arm across his chest. “Sweetie, you’re gray. Let’s get you some air.” She guided him away from the others. They walked together, Pepper holding him as if he were wounded, for what seemed like an eternity. And then shiny doors welcomed them inside the close, dimly-lit elevator car. He let her pull him inside. She patted his back as they watched Loki enter.

As the elevator rose, Loki held his hands behind his back and looked at Bruce out of the corner of his eye, resembling a very tall, ashamed child. Pepper stayed close to Bruce. “I’m putting you in the aquarium room so you can rest, okay?”

Bruce squeezed her hands in thanks. “I’m fine. It’s all right. I’m sorry about all of this. Really. We’ll go home.”

Loki took his elbow. “No! We’re going to talk about what’s wrong with you!”

Pepper’s sharp glance surprised Bruce.

Evidently, it surprised Loki as well. “I meant,” said Loki, clearing his throat a little, “you look sick. You need to watch the fish and relax.”

***

Bruce sat on the foot of the bed in the dimly-lit room, staring at the wall of fish in front of him. He felt numb. Pepper was finally leaving. She had practically tucked him in. He could hear her whispering to Loki in the doorway. “Don’t start with him the minute I leave.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean it. You dropped a bomb on him. He needs time to think.”

“I promise.”

Air kisses.

The door shut and Loki strolled over to the aquarium and gazed at the fish. The next second he spun on his heel, turning to Bruce with the air of a general marshalling his troops. “So why, exactly, don’t you want to have children with me?”

Bruce sighed. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like I don’t love you.”

“Maybe you don’t.”

“Loki.” He stared at his Norse god in frustration. “How can you say that?”

Loki, his spine straight as a rod, crossed his arms over his chest. “Everybody wants children. Don’t you want a legacy?”

Bruce laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of mirth in it. “No, that’s a fallacious assertion, and no, I don’t want a legacy. And that’s a selfish reason to produce offspring. The planet is overpopulated as it is.”

“But—” Loki shook his head. “How can you not want a family?” He turned toward the fish in despair. “Family is so important.”

The word ‘family’ made Bruce almost flinch. It was a word loaded with unpleasant associations. At least Loki hadn’t said—

“You’d be such a good father!”

‘Father’ actually made bile crawl up his throat. “Loki, I don’t want to talk about this—”

“I don’t understand. Is it the Hulk?”

Bruce lunged at the notion. “Yes! Yes, it’s the Hulk. There are so many factors.…” He grasped at straws. “And now that we’re both Avengers—our lives are too complicated and dangerous to accommodate children. And there’s a lot of travel.…” Those were half-truths. He wanted to tell Loki the real one, but he couldn’t. Even now, memories of his childhood were difficult, and when he tried to talk about them, he relived them—the bruises recalled in livid detail by his flesh, the psychological scars reopening in his fissured mind. He stared at Loki with a sick hopelessness, mute.

Loki nodded. He paced for a few steps before coming to a stop before Bruce. His face, so demanding a moment ago, looked pained and soft. “I wanted to do this for us. I thought…I thought….” He shielded his eyes and turned toward the fish.

Bruce felt everything around him crumble to dust. “Oh, Loki,” he said softly. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” He felt too dizzy to sit up and folded over, his elbows on his knees.

“I am?” Loki sniffled, looking over his shoulder. He cleared his throat. “Of course, I am!” The starch returned to his posture as he swirled to face Bruce.

Bruce swallowed. “You have a gift. A beautiful gift. You need to be with someone capable of sharing that with you.”

Loki’s eyes blazed. He leapt toward Bruce, caught him by the shoulders and shook him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! That’s not what you’re supposed to say! You’re getting everything wrong tonight!” He paused, mid fume, to swat tears from his cheeks. “You’re supposed to say the things in my head. But you keep saying random things. It’s all wrong.”

“What?”

“Usually, you’re so good. You say the right things. But— You’re off-script.”

“What script?” Bruce asked uneasily. “What are you talking about?”

Loki looked at him as if he were the insane one. “The voices in my head that say what you’re supposed to say.”

Fortunately, he knew Loki well enough to realize this was more figurative than pathological. Still, he couldn’t help himself. “You know that sounds crazy, right?”

Loki folded his arms in a pout. “Bag of cats crazy?”

Bruce snorted.

“See?” said Loki softly. “That’s better.”

“According to your head-script, I’m supposed to snort in amusement?”

“Yes. You’re supposed to find my antics charming—even the dickish ones. And you’re supposed to say, ‘Poor Loki. Sweet Loki.’” Loki knelt on the floor before him. He grabbed Bruce’s left hand and dragged it across his forehead. “And you’re supposed to pet me like that. And then you say, ‘Yes! Of course I want to have babies with you, Loki! You’re perfect, and I love you!’ And then you fist-fuck me bloody, and we live happily ever after.”

He cupped Loki’s chin. “If anyone ever approaches you to write a celebrity children’s book, don’t do it.”

Loki nuzzled his hand.

“I love you more than anything,” said Bruce gently, tears welling in his eyes. “I want you to be happy. You should be with someone who wants children.”

Loki, calm, seemed to consider this. He stared past Bruce’s shoulder for a heartbeat, then leveled his gaze at him. “I have children. I want you.” He slithered up from the floor and pushed Bruce back on the bed. Loki hung over him, their noses almost touching. “I want you, Bruce Banner. YOU. If I get nothing else for the rest of my life, I’ll be the happiest god ever.”

Bruce tried to keep it together, but heaved Loki’s name as a sob instead. Before he could say anything else, his mouth was commandeered by Loki’s tongue. He dissolved in Loki’s mouth, all of his thoughts and feelings melting on the sorcerer’s silver tongue.

“I’m sorry,” Loki whispered, staring down at him. His hands, cradling either side of Bruce’s face, were cool as a sushi chef’s, but his eyes were warm with emotion. “I never meant for you to find out like that.” He sniffled and stroked a tear from Bruce’s eye. “I love you. So much, Bruce. I love you so much.”

Bruce massaged a hand up the nape of Loki’s neck. Catching the back of Loki’s skull, he pulled the trickster’s lips to his. As they kissed, Bruce rolled Loki onto his back, so he ended up on top with Loki pinned beneath him. He kissed Loki hungrily, fiercely, his left hand clasping Loki’s right, his right hand prowling the god’s lithe body.

He found Loki’s hard cock exploding out from the waistband of his jeans. With only a little rough handling, the sweet slit of Loki’s silk-skinned glans began to weep sticky precum. He left Loki’s moaning lips to unbutton the sorcerer’s shirt. Bruce licked the pink rosettes of Loki’s areolas, then sucked each dark little nipple in turn, pulling it deep into his mouth and milking it between his tongue and hard palette. Loki whined fitfully and pulled Bruce’s hair.

Bruce choked Loki gently with one hand and pushed a knee into his balls. A little coo of pleasured pain urged him to continue. His knee crushed Loki’s balls against the floor of his pelvis. Loki groaned and curled against Bruce. Bruce kissed Loki’s mouth softly as Loki writhed passionately against him.

Bruce quickly divested himself of his shirt. Loki helped him, attacking his nipples with frantic Loki teeth and scratching down his sides with his cruel little nails. They wrestled on the bed for a moment—Loki, taut and electric—wriggling against him. When they stopped, Bruce lay atop Loki, his stomach pasted with his sorcerer’s precum. Bruce slowed things down, kissing Loki’s delicate lips with soft, leisurely strokes of his tongue and brushing his fingertips ever so lightly against the angles of Loki’s cheekbones.

When Bruce pulled away, Loki gazed at him with an expression of such love that it made him dizzy. He slipped out of his pants and underwear. With a grin, he unbuckled Loki’s belt and pulled it free. He folded it over and gave Loki’s thigh a hard swat.

Loki grimaced and started pulling his jeans down. “I can’t feel it as well in jeans.”

“Sorry,” said Bruce and tugged off Loki’s jeans, giving Loki’s veiny cock firm squeezes as he worked. His own cock throbbed, the skin tight and needy. Loki grinned and crossed swords with him. Bruce grabbed a clawfull of Loki’s navel and tickled him ferociously. Loki bunched up laughing. Bruce flipped him over and laid the folded belt across Loki’s ass with a brutal SMACK.

Loki squirmed as Bruce swatted him with the folded belt in slow, loud, heavy strokes. He paused to squeeze Loki’s blushing ass cheek. He let the end of the belt slip free and flogged Loki’s ass and thighs with it fully extended. Loki tore at the sheets, howling, as the belt wrapped around his thighs and stung his puckered ballsack. Points of bright red formed on Loki’s rosy bottom.

When Bruce stopped to lick the abused skin, it radiated heat and tasted of salt. Bruce kissed Loki’s frightened ballsack, coaxing it to relax. He pulled hot cheeks apart and tongued Loki’s hole. He smiled when Loki moaned his name softly. He shoved his tongue deep, flickering, nurturing. His fingers stroked Loki’s thighs. Loki filled the room with sweet, dove-like sounds. It pleased Bruce that his Loki enjoyed being loved gently almost as much as being loved roughly.

He found Loki’s jacket on the bed and dug the emergency tube of lube from the left pocket. Loki propped up on an elbow. “What are we doing now?”

“Now I fist-fuck you bloody, remember?”

Loki grinned hugely. “Wait!” he cried as Bruce began to remove his watch.

Bruce, his hand still on the wristwatch, frowned.

Loki giggled. “Leave it on.” He rolled onto his stomach and wiggled his belt-marked ass. “Please.”

  



	2. Chapter 2

Loki watched over his shoulder as Bruce stretched him with lubed fingers. Behind Bruce, the huge aquarium glowed green-blue and bright amid the shadows cloaking the room. Because Bruce was Tony’s best friend, he and Bruce visited Stark Tower regularly and often stayed overnight. Of all of the rooms Loki had visited in the tower, this was his favorite. He liked the dungeon, the glass room, the solarium, the various laboratories and garages, the gyms—especially the one on the twelfth floor, and the wine cellar, but he loved the tranquility of the aquarium room. Nestled deep in the tower’s interior, its minimalist décor had an Asian theme that separated it from the rest of Tony’s modernist abode.

He closed his eyes, luxuriating, as Bruce massaged his prostate and squeezed in a third finger. Womblike. The room had a womblike quality. Or maybe a cave. When he opened his eyes, the ripples of light waving across the cross-beamed ceiling seemed brighter than before. The word ‘cave’ filled his head like the echoes of a gong. While Bruce’s fingers worked Loki’s hole, Bruce’s other hand toyed with his glans. Loki closed his eyes once more, letting the ripples of light follow him into his private darkness. He pushed against Bruce’s fingers, longing to have his scientist deep inside.

The edge of Bruce’s wristwatch scraped deliciously against Loki’s ass cheek. Loki thrust backward wantonly. His prostate sang like a tuning fork. Pleasure rippled through his insides. He shuddered against a building tension. It was almost—so good, so there, so much, so close. He needed, needed, needed— Was that whining noise coming from him??? Maybe. Yes. Who cares? Oh…yes…fuck fuck fuck—

Everything stopped. Bruce crawled on the bed beside him and kissed his shoulder. Loki turned on his side to glare at him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Mmm…I love it when you’re demanding _and_ breathless.”

Loki squirmed closer to his stupid scientist. “Bruce, fist.” He shimmied his wild cock against Bruce’s thighs and pulled Bruce’s nearest hand to his ass. “Bruce, fist!”

Bruce rolled on his back laughing. “Bruce fist! I like that. Hulk smash! Bruce fist!”

Before Loki could reply, Bruce pounced on him and kissed him harshly. Planting a knee in Loki’s chest, Bruce fastened Loki’s belt around his wrists. Loki, bound hands above his head, liked where this was going and felt even more excited. Bruce pulled off one of his thin black dress socks and tied it around the neck of Loki’s sack, forcing his balls into a tight, throbbing bundle which he tied to Loki’s cock.

Bruce batted Loki’s balls about like a kitten with a new toy, sending explosions of pain through Loki’s body. To Loki’s great delight and dismay, Bruce grabbed his magnificent sorcerer cock and began wringing it violently while squeezing Loki’s bound testicles.

Loki lost himself to the sensations. Pleasure and pain danced through him like the ripples of light flickering on the ceiling above. He only realized he had been groaning loudly when the sounds ceased because one of his own wooly socks clogged his mouth. Bruce completed the gag with another of his slender dress socks tied around Loki’s head. Bruce pushed back when he had finished and surveyed his work with narrowed eyes.

Loki held his breath. For the barest instant, he wasn’t sure he knew the owner of those feral brown eyes. Those eyes shared more in common with the Hulk than with his sweet scientist.

Bruce bent toward him and pulled his nose roughly. The next instant, a fist flashed in his face…with a thumbtip sticking through the fingers. Bruce beamed at Loki.

“Teh me youah din tie me uh to play Gah Youah Noh,” Loki growled around the gag.

“Got your nose!” Bruce echoed happily. He nipped his way down Loki’s writhing body. “What? You only like mischief if you’re the one doing it?”

Loki squirmed as Bruce’s cock drove into his hole. Bruce pounded Loki’s ass violently. Loki stared into Bruce’s eyes and squeezed his legs around Bruce’s body. The bed shook beneath Loki as Bruce fucked the breath out of him.

And then they were a tangle of limbs and sheets as Bruce flipped Loki over on his stomach and fucked him doggie style. Bruce’s fingers bit into Loki’s hips as his cock stormed Loki’s hole. Loki lay his head on his bound hands, smelling the recycled rubber tread of the cruelty-free belt as the buckle repeatedly scraped his cheek. Bruce caught the sock knotted about Loki’s head along with a handful of hair and yanked his head back as he drilled Loki’s ass.

When he felt Bruce’s cum jetting against his walls, Loki wanted to cum too, but a hard thwack to his swollen, bound testicles made him yelp into his sock gag instead. After Bruce pulled out, Loki curled into a pained ball. Bruce held him and kissed his shoulders. He freed Loki of the gag and stroked his cheeks.

Loki made a wounded little noise and buried his face in a drift of sheets. Peeping out from beneath his hair, he enjoyed the concern etching Bruce’s face as the scientist leaned over him. “Was that too hard? I’m so sorry. Loki? Loki baby?” Bruce released Loki’s wrists.

Loki grabbed Bruce’s head and hissed in his ear, “Bruce, fisssssst!” He tumbled backward, laughing. “Oh, fuck! Your face! Too hard?” He could no longer speak for howling.

A big cold glob of lube slapped against his hole. He stopped laughing. Bruce grabbed him by his ankles and tugged him to the end of the bed. Bruce knelt. Loki, panting, quiet, watched as Bruce freed his cock and balls, watched him mouth and suck, returning his cock to full hardness. He frowned when Bruce stopped and stood. He let Bruce pull him up by one hand and grinned as their bodies drew close like a step from a tango. They twirled, and then Bruce backed Loki against the aquarium.

Bruce knelt. “Put your legs around my neck,” he ordered.

Loki looked down at him with a smirk, but did as he was told. His thighs rested on Bruce’s shoulders; his cock pulsed atop Bruce’s face. He laughed with delight as Bruce struggled to his feet. Loki’s back slid up the wall of glass. With a measure of caution, he grabbed the beam framing the top of the aquarium.

“Yes,” said Bruce. “Go ahead. It’ll support your weight.”

That phrase stuck in Loki’s mind like a moth in a web. How, exactly, did Bruce know that beam would support Loki’s weight? There hadn’t been a shred of doubt to that statement. It was almost as if he had evidence, empirical evidence, that said beam could hold Loki’s weight. Loki’s mouth opened in inquiry—

And then snapped shut as Bruce’s flattened fist bludgeoned his hole. For a moment he was overwhelmed by sensation—the heat spreading through him like wildfire, the blunt force impact, the intense pressure, the cold metal scrape of the wristwatch. Bruce stayed still, letting Loki adjust. And then Loki realized his cock was in Bruce’s mouth.

Waves of suction eased the tension from his body. He sighed in surrender as Bruce pushed his fist deeper. He could feel the fist rounding inside him, flaring with purpose. A shiver of anticipation tickled through his viscera. The fist began to pull out, pulling his being along with it, sweeping him out like a tide. Knuckles pressed against his prostate. Lights flashed through his body.

And then everything rushed backward. With a small gasp, Loki braced himself against the glass wall, his arms spread, his hands gripping the overhanging beam. He crossed his ankles behind Bruce’s back. His glans pressed into Bruce’s velvety soft palate as Bruce’s fist pulled out. The next instant the fist slammed through him, forcing the breath from his lungs.

The uppercuts bumped him up the wall. His hair crackled as it rolled between the back of his skull and the glass. Waves of intense pleasure crashed through his violated body. In his throes, he pressed a cheek against the aquarium. The green-blue light and the serenity of the slow-moving fish seemed so at odds with the violent earthquakes hammering his body that he almost laughed.

Instead, he moaned in ecstasy and filled Bruce’s mouth with blast after blast of cum.

Loki felt boneless as he slid to the floor. He remained there after they disentangled. Bruce held up his blood-smeared hand. “Am I back on script now?”

“Much better.”

Bruce wobbled to his feet, and pulled Loki up. He dragged Loki into the adjacent bathroom and scrubbed him clean. After they showered, Bruce rubbed and kissed Loki dry. Then they fell upon the bed together and cuddled, watching the fish swim sedately.

“I love this room,” said Loki, snuggling Bruce to his chest. “If we lived in Stark Tower like the others, I would want us to live here.”

Bruce rumbled happily, one hand gently massaging Loki groin to navel. “This was my room when I lived here.”

“You lived here?” Loki couldn’t imagine Bruce without his little urban zen apartment.

“After the Battle of New York, we all did. Tony even let us redecorate the rooms—at his expense.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I like having my own space. I mean, I love them, but who wants to live with their coworkers?” He kissed Loki’s pec and burrowed against him. “And have you seen them all watching TV together? It’s creepy. Like a mental hospital.”

“I’m your coworker now.”

“That’s different.” Bruce yawned. “You’re my entire life. You’re not intrusive in the same way oxygen isn’t intrusive. You’re elemental to my very existence.”

Loki enjoyed that thought for a few minutes, stroking Bruce’s arm and marveling at the still novel feeling of being loved. But something bothered him. He knew very little about the man he was going to marry. While Bruce wasn’t exactly secretive, he wasn’t forthcoming either. And although Loki had been happy to keep his own secrets, the notion that Bruce might also have secrets annoyed him. He wanted to question Bruce, but the scientist had fallen asleep.

***

Loki cornered Tony in his main laboratory the next morning. “Why doesn’t Bruce want to have children with me?”

Tony swiped away the program he had been working on and scowled around at Loki. “They have bagels upstairs. Go away.”

“What’s wrong with him? What’s he hiding?”

“Don’t touch that.” Tony batted Loki’s hand away from the 3-D interface. “Don’t touch anything.” He glared at Loki. “I thought you two settled things.” He glanced away. “Er…JARVIS told me you two…made up.”

“We haven’t resolved anything. I haven’t won yet.”

Tony shut everything down and swiveled his chair around to face Loki. He looked thoroughly disgusted. “You need to leave.”

“I need answers.”

“Ask Bruce. Get the fuck out of here, Loki!”

Loki didn’t budge. “He’s hiding things. There’s something— What is he not telling me?”

Tony stared at Loki for a second, then rocked back in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. “You wanna know what he’s hiding? Really? Okay. He’s got a secret house in Portland, Oregon, and he’s got a secret family—wife, three kids, dog. The wife’s hetero but the dog’s a lesbian. And he’s really a Sasquatch—or as he prefers, a Sasquatch American. And he’s really, really pissed at you ‘cause you gave him reindeer herpes.”

Loki stared at Tony for a long moment. “They’re horns, you obnoxious gasbag. Horns.” With a sigh, he turned toward the exit.

“Hey, Loki?”

He looked at Stark over his shoulder.

“Hurt him, and I’ll drag you back to Asgard by your short hairs. Got it?” He returned to his project.

Loki started to leave but couldn’t. “He’s fortunate to have a friend like you. Perhaps, someday, we will be friends as well.”

“Okay. In case that happens, I’ll try to keep a drawer stocked with magic corn.”

***

Bruce could feel the bass line of the night club’s sound system thudding through his body as he kissed the salt from Loki’s sweat-glossed lips. The mere act of dancing with Loki always drove him crazy, but it was this—licking and touching Loki after hours of provocative movements—that made him ache with yearning. Loki pinched his nipple hard enough to make him gasp and draw back in surprise. But Loki’s tormented expression made him laugh.

“You’re killing me,” said Loki.

“You’re killing me more.” He licked the inner edge of Loki’s upper lip and pressed his knuckles into the sorcerer’s swollen bladder. He could feel a humming vibration through his lips and tongue as Loki moaned. Bruce rolled his fist around, teasing.

Loki gave Bruce’s hair a sharp tug. “I have to piss!”

“Go piss.”

Loki grinned and grabbed his ass before pulling away. “I’ll save some for you.”

Bruce was glad to see Loki in good spirits. The trickster had been moody ever since their argument. Bruce had been glad when the weekend presented them with an opportunity to go out. “I’m going to get some water,” he told Loki.

“Get me a gin and tonic.” He lunged at Bruce, laughing as he caught a handful of cock. “Get me two!”

“A double?”

“Two doubles!”

He watched Loki stride away, music in his movements. Bruce threaded his way through the crowd, reaching the bar with a feeling of touching base. A muscular blond behind the bar looked up from washing glasses and beamed all over. “Bruce! Fuck!”

 _No, it’s Bruce fist_ , thought Bruce, but he smiled in return. “Madison! How are you?!”

Madison threw his bar towel over one of his impressive shoulders. “Better now that you’re here. Scotch neat, right?”

“What are you doing here?”

Madison shrugged as he poured. “L.A. was too— I dunno. Wildfires and assholes. New York’s really better for models anyway.”

“I thought you wanted a film career.”

“They don’t make films in Los Angeles—they make movies.” He downed the drink he had just poured for Bruce. “I’m a serious actor…slash model.”

“Good for you. Stay true to your goals.”

“That’s right!” He leaned closer to Bruce. “I’m in a play!”

“That’s great!” said Bruce.

“It’s going to be fantastic,” said Madison, pouring another scotch. “It’s _The Zoo Story_ —and it’s updated and so modern. Everyone’s nude to reveal the vulnerability of all of the characters.”

“Aren’t there only two characters?”

Madison frowned. “No, there are like thirty—fifty if you include the dancers and acrobats. And the songs are great. Really catchy, you know? Kind of retro with a flamenco influence.”

“That sounds—” Bruce hoped the scotch was for him this time. “So interesting.”

“It is, but it’s such a heavy story.”

“Yeah, I imagine the acrobats help with that.”

“It’s so fucking kismet meeting you like this—”

“It’s been great.” Bruce started away. “I don’t want to keep you from your customers, though.”

Madison’s hand pounced atop his. “I’m flying the ‘on the make’ towel signal. Jorge or Boston will get them.” He leaned closer. “So, is Dr. Banner’s ER open tonight, cuz I’ve got a bad ass emergency. I think I’m gonna need an enema, a catheter, maybe some stitches. Maybe some saline injections in my balls.”

“I can’t.” Bruce extracted himself from Madison’s grip. “I’m with someone.” He turned as a person brushed against him. “Loki!” The sweet thrill he always felt when reunited with his trickster shot through him. Although he cared about Madison, the encounter reminded him, not so much of their sexual exploits, but of the gnawing emptiness afterward—that yearning for something real, something profound. And here was Loki, a beacon in the dark. “I thought you’d gotten lost.”

Loki’s arms were laced across his chest, and his chin had a haughty lift to it. “Maybe I should have.”

“He’s cute,” said Madison. “I don’t mind if he plays too.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “I’m much more than cute. And I don’t play well with others.”


	3. Chapter 3

Loki glared into the bartender’s chiseled face, hatred snapping through his body like currents of power.

“Loki,” said Bruce, “this is my friend Madison.”

Madison smiled charmingly. Loki hated him more.

“He’s my fiancé,” Bruce told Madison—much too late for Loki’s liking.

The blond cocked his head to the side. “You’re…getting _married_?” There was something so plaintive in his expression that, for the barest instant, Loki felt sorry for him. This, along with Loki’s new job as an Avenger, kept the bartender’s teeth out of the back of his skull. “You said you couldn’t get serious because of your Hulk issues….”

“Loki’s an Avenger too,” said Bruce. “He’s special. The Hulk can’t kill him.”

“Oh,” said Madison. “That’s great. Congratulations, you two.” He smiled and polished the bar in front of Loki with the white towel from his shoulder. “Sounds like you guys were made for each other.”

Bruce continued to chat amiably with his friend, but Loki stared at the scientist as if seeing him for the first time, as if looking upon a stranger.

***

“Fuck Fuck FUCK!!!” Loki roared. The young sales assistant helping them cringed. “I ask for emerald. You bring me cedar. Are you colorblind, young man? Why am I working with a colorblind sales assistant?!”

Bruce smoothed a hand between Loki’s tense shoulders. “We’re having trouble finding something you like, but it’s not his fault, Loki. Take a dee—”

Loki snarled over his shoulder. “If you tell me to take a deep breath, I’ll pull your balls out through your mouth.”

Bruce eyed him somberly. “Figuring out what to wear for the wedding should be fun.”

“It should be!” Loki’s nostrils flared as he flung tuxedos and suits aside. “But for help I have an incompetent, colorblind sales clerk and the only gay man in New York City who hates clothes shopping.”

“I don’t hate it—”

“Fine! You’re just not any good at it.”

Bruce took a deep breath himself. Loki had had a bug up his ass for days. Nothing seemed to make him happy. Everything made him mad. Where was the sweet, sensitive god who had wanted to save the world? The one who loved chickens because they symbolized a fresh start? The one whose growing empathy and desire to do good had led him to become an Avenger? “Hey, what about this purple one?”

Loki snatched it from his hands and scowled at it at length. “It’s not hideous…. I look great in purple. Maybe it’ll work. We still need to find something for you.”

“I like purple.”

“Good. You can like it on me. That’s as close as you’re getting to it.”

“What the fuck, Loki?”

“Purple does shit for your coloring.”

“I like purple. Fuck, I love purple.”

“It doesn’t love you back!” Loki tossed his hair and flailed about the garment racks like a wild horse. “You aren’t a winter, Bruce! You’re not a winter, and you never will be!”

Bruce sighed. “Loki…maybe we should get you something to eat or something to drink or a handful of Valium….”

Loki continued to rant, ticking off his points by chopping his hand onto his other palm. “Liking something doesn’t mean you should live with it. It doesn’t mean you can carry it off. Loving something doesn’t mean it won’t let you down or make you look like a complete buffoon. Loving something and making something work are two COMPLETELY different things—and if you weren’t a fashion retard you’d know that and—-”

“Don’t say retard. That’s not— ”

“What gives you any right to even talk to me about this?! You— ”

“It’s my wedding too, and I’m a grown man and should have some say in what I wear.”

“Grown man? You look like your mother dresses you—and she might be as colorblind as our clerk— ”

The last consonant ended in a little ‘yip’ as Bruce caught Loki’s ear and pulled his face even with his own. “Stop acting like such an asshole.” They glared at each other. “I love your spoiled brat routine in the bedroom. I hate it when we’re out.”

Beyonce’s _Put a Ring on It_ began playing out of Loki’s ass. With a scowl, Loki dug his phone out of his back pocket. Bruce released his ear. Loki answered his phone with an airy voice. “Pepper! Hello, dear. Oh, nothing. Just…nothing.” Pause. “Of course, I remembered. Of course, we’ll be there. Naturally, dear. Toodles.” He resumed his scowl as he looked at Bruce and locked his phone. “Nick’s birthday party.”

“Right,” said Bruce. “I almost forgot.” He sighed and stroked Loki’s arm. “Loki, I’m sor— ”

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me. We’re going to this stupid party because I told Pepper we’d be there, but I want you to leave me alone. You’re smothering me.”

Bruce watched Loki storm out of the store. He followed a safe distance behind. Smothering him? Only a few weeks ago, Loki had accused Bruce of not loving him enough.

***

Bruce watched mai tai drip from Thor’s golden mustache as the god of thunder looked up from sucking down the contents of his coconut shell. “Please don’t tell him I asked you about this,” said Bruce. Everything about this felt wrong, but he was desperate.

“What is it?” asked Thor, concern obvious in his handsome face.

They had pulled off to a corner of the room by themselves. Tony always threw the best parties, and this one didn’t disappoint. Gatsby couldn’t have thrown a more lavish birthday gala. Everyone Bruce could see looked happy. Even Loki, dancing with Pepper, and—of all people—the guest of honor himself, Director Fury, seemed to be having a great time. Only Bruce, huddled like a nervous informant beside his big blond oblivious future brother-in-law, was miserable.

Bruce screwed up his courage. “So, Loki can get pregnant. Okay. But— He said he develops a stoma.…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Does he have periods?”

Tony howled behind his back. “No. Fucking. Way!”

Bruce groaned. “Fuck.”

“Jane has periods,” said Thor helpfully. He winced a little. “And the PMS. The PMS is a fearsome and confusing time. It involves many tears and much screaming.” A noticeable shudder rippled through his broad shoulders. “Much screaming.”

Bruce smiled in sympathy. “PMS was why I was asking.”

Tony laughed so hard he started crying. He had to hold Bruce’s shoulder for support. Thor blinked at them both quizzically. “I don’t believe he has cycles the way women do. What he does—it’s magical. He _is_ male.” He cocked his head to one side. “Are you ailing, Banner?”

“I was hoping it was PMS,” Bruce said sheepishly, drawing another round of laughter from Tony.

“I thought you two were happy,” said Thor.

“We are…but…lately…. He’s so touchy. Everything I do is wrong. Everything I say upsets him.” He knew he should shut up. But he couldn’t. It felt good to unload. “He gets angry at everything. I breathe the wrong way, and he flies into a rage. I was hoping he was just on the rag or something.”

Tony had stopped laughing. “That would explain things, wouldn’t it?” He frowned thoughtfully at Thor. “Do we know for certain he doesn’t get PMS?”

“Fairly certain,” said Thor, sounding more uncertain.

“Let’s ask him,” said Tony. He snapped in the air over his head and shouted, “Hey, Reindeer Games! Over here!”

Anger rolled through Bruce’s chest. “DON’T fuck with him.”

Tony flashed Bruce a prickly look. “Did you just growl at me?”

Bruce shoved the Hulk down, but his voice remained gruff. “I mean it. Leave him alone.”

Loki walked up, flushed from dancing. “What is it?”

Tony glared at Bruce. “Nothing. I’m about to kick your boyfriend’s ass.”

Loki gave Bruce a sour glance. “Great. I’ll help.”

“I was trying to protect you,” Bruce said.

“See?” Thor said to Bruce. “Now you know how it feels.”

Tony stroked his chin and stared at Bruce. “So, I’m Goofus and you’re Gallant. That’s how you see this, huh? You’re the good guy and I’m the asshole.”

Bruce graced his best friend with an easy smile. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Tony took a swallow of his drink and smiled back. Then he said to Loki, “Right before Prince Charming here was protecting you, he was telling us how you’re always on the rag.”

Loki stared at the faces around him like a deer caught in headlights. “What does that idiom mean?”

“Oh, Loki.” Bruce reached for his hand. “Let’s go somewhere and talk—”

“It means you have a vagina,” said Thor. “And have periods. And you act mean and crazy. I told him you have a stoma and no cycles, but the mean and crazy part is an apt description of your behavior. Sometimes. Brother.”

Loki ignored everyone but Bruce. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Loki, I’m so sor—”

“Save it. I’m taking a cab home.” He turned away. “You stay here with your idiotic friends.”

  



	4. Chapter 4

Loki kept his hands in the pockets of his jacket and his eyes on the damp sidewalk. He didn’t want to hail a cab. He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, so he walked.

Bruce followed a few paces behind like the world’s most annoying two-faced dog. He had stopped apologizing around the third floor of Stark Tower—Loki had taken the stairs just to fuck with him—but he still followed. Apparently, after a couple of blocks on level ground, he had gotten his wind back. “Loki, please. It’s after three. Let’s talk this out and go home.”

After twenty floors and two blocks, Loki had reached his limit. He rounded on the scientist with his hands at his hips. “If I wanted to fucking talk to you, don’t you think I would have stopped by now?”

“You have every right to be angry—”

“Why are you talking to me? I don’t want to talk to you! Go talk to Madison!”

“What?”

“Your medical kink boytoy.” He gathered his arms across his chest. His breath steamed in the early March air. “You fucking liar! Poor cursed Bruce. He has no boyfriends—just Abercrombie and Fitch Thor.”

“Madison and I were never in anything even approaching a relationship. You don’t nee—”

“I’m special because the Hulk can’t kill me. That doesn’t mean you want me. That doesn’t mean anything. What if I could make your blond—” He gasped as a horrible thought assailed him. “You prefer blonds! Muscle-headed blonds! If Thor were gay, you’d want him! The Hulk can’t kill him either!” Loki heaved for breath, grabbed the back of his skull, and squeezed his head between his bent arms. “You asshole! You fucking asshole! You love Thor!”

Bruce had the nerve to touch his elbows, trying to pull them down. “Baby, baby, sweetheart. No, no. Loki baby. I’d rather have a bag of limp dicks than Thor.”

“Madison then.”

“Madison was a friend. You know, a friend with benefits.”

“What were you even doing with someone like that? He’s way out of your league.”

Bruce coughed in surprise. “What? I’m nice; I’m brilliant; I have several degrees; I’m a fucking superhero, and I’m decently good-looking. I’m a catch—” He stepped down off his soap box with a diffident glance at his cruelty-free loafers. “If it weren’t for the whole smash, smash thing.”

“Was Madison the one you fucked at Tony’s? Is that how you knew the beam would bear my weight?”

Bruce had the audacity to look peeved. “You and I weren’t together then. You have no right to judge me for anything I did before you. You have no idea how lonely I’ve been. How isolated— I’m a man. I have needs.”

“Needs.” Loki scoffed. “I’ve seen your needs.”

“What about you? What is it—two millennia or something of playtime for Caligula? How did you describe your chaste existence once? Many relationships—and every one a hot, twisted kinkfest mere mortals can’t imagine? Yet I’ve never held any of that against you.”

“Of course you didn’t. You’re a slut.”

“And you’re a hypocrite. I’ll take slut any day.”

Loki seethed, gloriously affronted. “You—” he pointed at Bruce, “are supposed to be apologizing.”

“I changed my mind. I’m an unapologetic slut.”

“I don’t marry unapologetic sluts!”

Bruce sighed and stared at the street. “We shouldn’t break up every time we fight. It’s destabilizing and unhealthy.”

“Right. We should break up once and be done with it. Done with it, I say!”

“Have you ever heard the story of the little boy who cried wolf?” Bruce asked quietly.

Loki didn’t want to admit to not having heard the story, so he simply glared at Bruce instead.

“Let’s go home,” Bruce said gently. “I love you, and you know it. And—”

“Fuck you!” Loki shoved Bruce back a few steps. “How can I love you when I know nothing about you?” He lunged at Bruce suddenly, slapped his head sideways and grabbed him by his lapels. A thrill sang through Loki when a flash of rage flickered in Bruce’s eyes. “What? Does that make you angry? Good!” he roared in Bruce’s face. “I LIKE YOU WHEN YOU’RE ANGRY! At least HE’S honest with me.” He shook the scientist and smacked him again. “You never were, were you? No one’s that good.” Thwackt. “Was it fun—lying to the god of lies? All of this—love. How stupid could I have been?” His laughter rose up like bile. “Love me? Who would ever love me?” A backhand. “Come on! Let’s go! Show me how you really feel! Let’s crack some asphalt!” This time he slapped Bruce a little carelessly. Blood, black in the dim light, spilled from Bruce’s lip.

Bruce stared at him with dark, pitying eyes, but there was no sign of Hulk. “Let me go,” Bruce said softly.

Loki released Bruce. He stared at the scientist in confusion. “Where is he?”

“He happens when I’m angered or frightened.” Bruce straightened his clothes and pressed the heel of a hand against his mouth. “He doesn’t appear when I’m sad. If that were the case, I’d spend most of my days green.” His voice filled with tears. “I wanted this. You can’t imagine how much I wanted this.” He turned and walked away.

“Bruce!” Loki leapt in front of him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to make you angry.”

“Loki…that was fucked up on so many levels….”

Loki forgot his contrition. “I’m stronger than most Midgardians! If I truly wanted to hurt you, you would be HURT. But I only wanted— I wanted to make you turn. I want him to hurt _me_.” He trembled, wild and raw. “I need him to hurt me.”

“And that’s why this won’t work. What we do in play is one thing, but I won’t become a tool for your self-hatred.” He regained his composure as he spoke, his voice quiet and sure. “I’m not a monster. I won’t let you make me one.”

Loki couldn’t help himself and burst into tears. Bruce held him. “I was breaking up with you,” Loki managed after a time. “You can’t break up with me when I was breaking up first. That’s not fair.”

Bruce made a small noise against Loki’s neck that could have been a laugh but seemed more like a sob.

“So….” Loki tried to rein in his tears. They continued to slide stubbornly down his face, dripping from his chin into Bruce’s hair. “What do we do now?”

“I can’t go to Tony’s. He’s mad at me.” He sighed, the action lifting his chest pleasantly against Loki’s. “I growled at him.”

“We could go back to the apartment.” Loki basked in the embrace. Bruce seemed like the only warm thing in the world. “We could stay here….”

“I can stay in my office for a while,” Bruce said. “It’ll be okay. This can be amicable. We can be adults.”

Loki choked back a sob. “I hate you.” He squeezed Bruce tighter.

Bruce squeezed him back. “I know.”

“Why did you have to ruin _Robot Chicken_?”

“What?”

“It’s my favorite show—and you’re so selfish. You ruined it!”

“Please explain?”

Loki sniffled, rubbing Bruce’s back. “How am I supposed to watch it without you?”

Bruce, face buried in Loki’s shoulder, shrugged. “How am I supposed to watch it without you?”

“You don’t even like that show.”

“I love watching it with you.”

In a small voice, Loki said, “Maybe we should stay together for _Robot Chicken_?”

Bruce slipped free and backed a few steps away. He stared at Loki with eyes intense and dark. Suddenly, he grabbed Loki by the arm and hauled him into the alley behind them. He whipped Loki backwards against the brick wall. Loki’s breath left his mouth in a surprised rush.

And then Bruce’s mouth covered his as Bruce’s body pressed him against the wall. Loki embraced his scientist and kissed him back, delving hungrily into his mouth. The tang of blood made him whimper—his poor Bruce. But the hands roughly massaging his cock through his jeans as they unbuckled his belt banished every thought from his mind that wasn’t sexual. By the time his jeans hit his boots his cock was swollen and tight with need.

As they continued trying to suck out each other’s souls, he yanked apart Bruce’s slacks and pulled down his boxer briefs. The solid pulse of Bruce’s cock felt so good in his hands. He stroked and tugged it. Sweet silk over rigid heat.

He sighed in longing as Bruce’s mouth left his. Firm hands pressed his needy body back against the wall as they traveled down him. A wet finger shoved through him, harsh and unforgiving. Usually, Bruce sucked him first. This quick entrance felt hot and brutal. But when the finger slithered against his prostate the complexity of the sensations drew a pleasured groan through his gnashed teeth.

He rolled his head against the cold bricks. Bruce seemed to be trying to make him come with nothing but his prostate. And the scientist was close to succeeding.

Just as Loki thought he could bear no more, Bruce took his cock deep into his mouth. His body swam with pleasure. As Bruce deep-throated Loki’s cock and worked his prostate, he pushed his head, with steadily increasing pressure, into Loki’s stomach. Loki’s vagus nerve lit up like a Christmas tree. Some dancing snake, made of energy and internal light, rippled through his core. An unleashed power roared through his prostate, belly, and diaphragm. Through his chest, throat, and forehead. And somewhere beyond, beyond.

Cum burst from him in multiple gushes of ecstasy. The sensation of Bruce’s determined swallowing filled him with pleasure anew. He fucked with Bruce’s hair and chuckled in delight as Bruce rubbed his balls and sucked him harder, maintaining his erection for more back alley fun.

Bruce stood, so Loki dropped to return the blowjob, but Bruce pinned his arms against the wall. He stared into Loki’s face with such seriousness that Loki’s blood froze. Shaking, Bruce kissed Loki with a passion that singed his silver tongue. Loki closed his eyes in submission, giving himself to Bruce completely, hoping Bruce could feel his surrender, hoping it would suffice.

And then he felt a rush of cold air as Bruce pulled away and flung him across the alley. He landed on a heap of bagged garbage beside a dumpster. Before he could regain his feet, Bruce was on top of him. Bruce rustled in Loki’s jacket pocket. A cold splat of lube squished unceremoniously atop Loki’s hole.

Loki hugged the garbage as Bruce’s cock wedged apart his ass cheeks and speared him through. The prostate play had loosened him, but not quite enough. He clawed the bag beneath him and bit the inside of his mouth. Bruce fucked him roughly, pounding deep and fast. Loki opened to him, took him even deeper. He let the pounding take him over, let each hard, deep stroke rock him into some other dimension. Even before Bruce reached down to fondle Loki’s cock as they fucked, Loki’s belly swarmed with pleasured stars.

At the first jet of Bruce’s cum, Loki tingled all over and frosted the garbage bags. Loki sighed happily atop the heap. Behind him, he heard the jangle and zip as Bruce pulled on his pants. Loki staggered to his feet, enjoying the post orgasm wobbliness of his usually strong legs. He fixed his jeans with a smile on his face.

Exhilarated, Loki turned to face Bruce, wanting to fill his mouth with trickster tongue. But Bruce was huddled against the wall, his face hidden behind arms and knees. He shook quietly while Loki watched. Filled with confusion and dread, Loki knelt. For a split second, he thought Bruce was turning. But this was something else. A seizure?

He balked at the first heartrending sounds. Bruce never wept—not like this. Loki wanted to know why he was crying, wanted to ascertain where their relationship stood. But he held his need in check. Instead, he touched Bruce’s arms gingerly. Bruce stayed bundled tight. Loki carefully enveloped him.

He nurtured his scientist with hands and lips. There was something deep and harsh in the sobs—as if the pain they expressed rose from the fester of old wounds. He had the distinct impression there was something here that had nothing to do with him.  
But maybe it did. He was grateful when Bruce looked up at him with the twinge of a smile. “Sorry,” he said in a hoarse voice, wiping his eyes. “I fuck everything up.”

Loki grinned tearfully. “I fuck everything up more.” Guilt overthrew his playfulness. “You’re bleeding.” He daubed at Bruce’s mouth with his shirt.

“I’m okay.”

Loki chilled his hands, placing one against Bruce’s face and the other alongside his neck. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I thought I would be the one—”

Pat Benatar’s _We Belong_ lifted from the garbage. Bruce frowned. “Is that your phone?”

“Fucking Thor.” Loki found his phone and ignored the call.

“What kind of ringtone is that for Thor?”

“It was for you. I changed all of my ringtones to songs that I thought would influence you to marry me.”

“Crafty.”

“Thank you!”

 _We Belong_ erupted from Loki’s phone again. “Loki, call your brother and let him know we’re okay.”

“We’re okay?”

Bruce stroked a strand of hair off Loki’s face. “I don’t know, but we’ll find some way to get there.”

***

Bruce turned off Deftones’ _Rosemary_ and toweled Loki off after the quick shower. Some invisible wall had grown between them again. Loki had been relatively quiet on the ride home and had avoided eye contact in the shower, his reticence impervious to music and steam. He slunk to the bed before he was fully dry and crawled beneath the covers.

“No,” said Bruce, sliding into bed beside him. “Sit up.” He waved a comb in Loki’s face.

Loki peered at him above a ledge of blankets. “You don’t need to do that.”

“It’ll be a tangled puffball tomorrow.”

“You’re tired.” A strained note entered his voice. “I know you must be tired.”

“Please. I know it sounds silly, but I need to touch you. I need things to feel normal.” He tried to smile, but his mouth hurt. “You like being groomed.”

Loki sat up, turning his back to Bruce. He remained still and silent as Bruce pulled the wide-toothed comb through his cold, damp hair. “I know,” said Bruce, “that you said you hear a voice saying what you think I should say, but do you ever hear a voice saying things about you?”

Loki’s back and shoulders stiffened. “I’m not crazy.” His voice shrank to a whisper. “I’m often wrong, but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest you were crazy. And I’m often wrong too. So we have that in common.” Bruce held his hand protectively against Loki’s head as he pulled the comb’s teeth through a snarl. “I was asking because I thought you might have a critical inner voice. I have one. It says things like _you’re a monster_ and _you bring harm to anyone you love_ and _nothing you do as Bruce will ever matter—your gravestone will be inscribed: Hulk smash._ ”

Loki looked at him over his shoulder. “Yes,” he said softly. “I hear something like that.”

“What does yours say?”

Loki turned away and sighed. “It says _you don’t belong_ and _you’re unlovable_ and _you’re not worthy._ ”

“Whose voice is it?”

“Mine.”

Bruce eased another tangle free. “Are you sure? All the time? Think about it. Listen carefully.”

Loki was quiet for a long moment. “Odin. Sometimes it’s his voice.”

Bruce ran his fingers through Loki’s silken hair. “It’s never yours, Loki. It isn’t real. It’s like old programming—like a stain or a scar. When you hear it, fight back. Counter it with something positive like _everyone deserves love_ or _I am worthy._ ”

Loki hung his head. Bruce hugged him from behind. He pressed his eye close to Loki’s cheek and fluttered his lashes against it. Loki snickered and copied him. “Butterfly kisses,” he said. “You’re the most ludicrous—” His breath caught. He swung around and pulled Bruce to his chest.

“It’s okay,” Bruce whispered as they sank back on the bed. Loki’s hands, cold as ice, wrapped around his head. “It’s okay,” he repeated around the two chilly fingers tending his mouth. As they held each other, Bruce’s thoughts drifted and grew nebulous.

As if from a distance, Loki said softly, “Your critical inner voice sounds like the Hulk?”

“Sometimes,” Bruce mumbled beneath a turgid veil of sleep.

***

Loki sat on the roof of their apartment building with Daenerys in his lap watching Bruce root prune their apple tree. Normally, he enjoyed watching Bruce tend the plants on their square of the roof garden, but the previous night’s argument continued to cast a pall on the day.

He caressed Daenerys’ silken feathers. In the sunlight—with the white chicken in his arms, Bruce nearby, and the smell of upturned earth dominating the usual odors of the city—the fury and insecurity that had fueled the fight seemed sad and inconsequential. It was as if a great battle had been fought over a mote.

“Bruce!”

Bruce looked at him.

“We need to draw up a peace agreement.”

Bruce removed his gloves, took up the notebook he kept on the garden, and sat cross-legged beside Loki. “I like that idea. Did you have any experience negotiating treaties when you were a prince of Asgard?”

“No.” Loki couldn’t meet Bruce’s gaze. “We usually fought until there was no one left to surrender.” He cleared his throat. “I have been studying your history. The concept is appealing. We should try it.” He looked at Bruce hopefully. “You should write it down.”

“Okay.” Bruce found a clean page in the notebook and pulled the cap off the green ball point.

“Dissolution of the relationship cannot be brought up during an argument under any circumstances.”

Bruce stared at the page for a moment, then began writing. “You’re right. If one of us feels we need to end this, we should have a calm, serious discussion.”

A sick fear shivered through Loki’s insides. “We shouldn’t even be thinking of an end if we’re getting married. We shouldn’t embark on this feeling as if we can abandon it whenever. We should go into it resolved to negotiate problems—dedicated to always working things out.”

Bruce looked at Loki with eyes dark and soft. “I agree.”

Loki sighed with relief. “Good. And how about no running away?”

“Sometimes,” said Bruce, “it’s good to get away for a bit to think things through.”

“No running from or during an argument unless both parties agree to a cooling off period.”

Bruce smiled slightly. “All cooling off requests should be honored.”

“Thank you,” Loki said. But then he winced. “However, that means the party requesting the break shouldn’t do so hoping the other party will run after them.”

“Especially if twenty flights of stairs are involved.”

“Agreed.”

When he finished writing, Bruce said, “Each party should try to remember that they aren’t actually engaged in a war. They aren’t adversaries—just two people who love each other having a disagreement.”

Loki frowned. “That’s going to be difficult.”

“That’s why ‘try’ is in there.”

“I like it. Write it down.” As he watched Bruce write, the dark scab on Bruce’s lip caught his eye. He felt sick. “No nonconsensual violence.”

The Smiths’ _Ask_ interrupted with its upbeat melody and coy lyrics.

Loki frowned at his phone, but didn’t answer. “Tony.”

“You still haven’t updated your ringtones?”

Loki couldn’t help but smile. “I thought that one was especially clever. It rarely played, though. I don’t think he’s ever called me before. Maybe he was trying to find you?”

“My phone’s on.”

“Oh, look. He sent me a video.” He scooted close so Bruce could watch it with him.

“Great, a video.” Bruce sighed. “For fuck’s sake, Tony. It was just a growl.”

On the little screen, Tony sat amid the mechanical guts of something, bits of hardware scattered about him, facing the camera above him. Bruce, behind the inventor, twiddled with some gadget at a table nearby. “You’re telling me I shouldn’t put a stop to this?” asked Tony.

“How would that make any sense?”

They remained absorbed in their gizmos. “You made me your best man. That means I’m responsible for getting your ass out of this mess.”

Bruce laughed. “No, it means you hang out with me at the altar so I don’t feel like a complete idiot while we wait for Loki to make his grand entrance.”

Tony looked over his shoulder at Bruce. “Loki’s the bride?”

“Loki’s the prince.”

Tony returned to his project, rolling his eyes behind Bruce’s back. “Not anymore.”

“He’s my prince,” said Bruce, grinning, still playing with his machinery. “He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.”

“You dreamed of pissy egoists?”

Bruce looked up at Tony like he was going to say something, shook his head, then returned to his work. “He’s difficult sometimes, but he makes up for it.”

“Great blow jobs aren’t a reason to get married. There would be a lot of Mrs. Starks running around out there if that were the case.”

“I’m not talking about the sex. There’s something— Like a first snow or the smell of the ocean—you know it’s good before you even understand it. You feel it all through you. It’s like looking at a picture of your best memory, but you haven’t lived it yet. I look at him and—I just know…somehow everything’s going to be all right.” He put down the gadget and stared into the distance. “Hope. Maybe that’s what it is. He gives me hope. I’ve never had that before.”

Hidden from Bruce’s vision, Tony jacked his fist. The clip ended. Loki hugged Bruce’s neck, the snowy hen between them. “You give me hope too,” he murmured into Bruce’s hair.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trivia: The phrase 'decently good looking' was used to describe Mark Ruffalo's character in "The Normal Heart." I couldn't resist using it.


	5. Chapter 5

Loki sat on his barstool at the kitchen island stroking the cool granite while Bruce cut cucumbers into the little matchsticks Loki liked. He enjoyed watching Bruce do things in the kitchen.

“So,” said Bruce, peeling a new cucumber carefully, “Tony’s my best man—”

Loki stole a handful of cucumber matchsticks. “And Pepper’s my maid of honor.”

“And Jen’s my maid of honor,” said Bruce. Loki knew Bruce meant his cousin Jennifer, a lawyer who lived in California. Although Loki hadn’t met her yet, he was excited she was going to play a part in the wedding. “But that’s going to give us an uneven number for the wedding party,” said Bruce. “Shouldn’t you have a best man too?”

Loki munched his matchsticks and scowled. “Pepper’s my best friend. And you’re already going to be there. I don’t have anyone else.”

“Seriously?”

Something about Bruce’s tone made Loki’s eyes water slightly. “Yes. Pepper’s my best friend, and you’re my best everything. That’s it.”

“Big. Blond. Friendly. Has a hammer… Ring any bells?”

Loki arched back in disgust. “Unfuckingbelievable.”

Bruce began carving a radish into a rose. “He’s your brother, and he loves you. Don’t you think he should be a part of this?”

“No, but, obviously, you do.”

“I do. I know the two of you have your problems, but at least you have a brother to hate. Jen’s all the family I have.” He shook his head, working on another radish. “When I was a little boy, I used to sit in my tree house and wish I had a brother.”

“You lived in a tree? Like a squirrel?”

Bruce stopped carving to sigh at him. “Yes. Just like a squirrel, Loki.” One side of his mouth crooked up. “That’s why I love your nuts.”

Loki smirked. “I hope that salad’s good, because the entertainment here tonight is bad.”

Bruce shrugged, filling a little bowl with julienned carrots, cucumbers, broccoli florets, and radishes. He dressed it with some rice vinegar and sat it in front of Loki. “From what you’ve told me, Odin sounds like a narcissist. A narcissistic parent often has one child, the scapegoat that catches all of his criticism, and another that’s his golden child—the one he sees himself in, the one he favors, the one he seems to love best.”

Loki turned his vegetables over with his fork. “That does sound familiar.” As Bruce walked behind him, he passed a hand across Loki’s shoulders and kissed the back of Loki’s head. Loki closed his eyes briefly, opening them to find Bruce settling beside him. He chilled Bruce’s bowl with a touch.

Bruce made a little awed noise. “I love it when you do that.”

“I know you do.” He stabbed a floret. “So, why should I want Odin’s golden child involved in my wedding?”

“Because he loves you. And because you shouldn’t allow the roles your father imposed on you to define your relationship now.” He brushed his fingers along the back of Loki’s upper arm. “I know the way Odin treated you wasn’t fair, but he wasn’t fair to Thor either. He drove a wedge between the two of you and ruined what should have been one of the closest relationships of your lives.”

Loki stroked a radish rose with the tines of his fork. “I suppose, since you want him to be in the wedding party and already have your two spots occupied…I suppose I can ask him to be my best man.”

***

Loki met Thor in a Mexican restaurant that served the colorful sweet drinks Thor favored. Apparently, once Thor had tasted an exotic drink called a blue Hawaiian, the sweetness had appealed to him so much that he had begun trying all kinds of the fancy mixed drinks sometimes referred to as ‘girl drinks.’ Loki reasoned that they reminded Thor of the sweet mead they had grown up drinking.

Loki, of course, had a more sophisticated palette and thought all of this umbrella drink business was ridiculous. Still, he believed buying Thor a round or two of the sugary concoctions was in order.

The order itself, however, seemed to pose a problem. “May I see your I.D.?” asked the waitress.

“What?” Loki scowled at Thor, who seemed quite amused. He glared at the silly girl again. “Do you have any idea how old I am?”

“No. That’s why I need to see your I.D.”

“Why don’t you need to see his I.D.?”

The waitress glanced at Thor, then said to Loki, “I can’t serve you alcohol without seeing your I.D.”

Thor roared with laughter. Loki sneered at the waitress. “It’s the facial hair, isn’t it? It’s the fucking facial hair.” He rounded on Thor. “This isn’t funny. This, ‘Let me see your papers’ shit. This is the sort of thing they did in Nazi Germany.”

Thor’s laugh morphed into a cough. “I wouldn’t mention Germany.”

“I think you need to leave,” said the waitress.

“I think,” said Loki, looking carefully into her eyes and smiling broadly, “you are going to bring us a free round of drinks and whatever appetizer the blond clod wants.”

She stared at him for a few seconds, then returned his smile. “You can fuck off, Mister Wackypants. I’m getting my manager.”

Loki sank his head into his hands. “Fuck me.”

“Fear not, Brother,” said Thor with obnoxious good cheer. “I know the manager. Let me handle this.”

“I have a driver’s license,” said Loki quietly, setting it on the table.

“Why didn’t you show it to the waitress?”

Loki shrugged.

“She only thought you looked young. You should be flattered. Being young is very important in America. Being young is the same as being desirable.”

Loki sipped his water. “I am very desirable.” Thor grunted noncommittally. Loki knew if Bruce had been there, Bruce would have said, “Yes, you are, Loki.” He held the thought, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to feel Bruce near him.

In short order, the drink scandal was ameliorated. Thor ordered them something called ‘nachos’ and a round of something called banana daiquiris. In the meantime, the waitress brought them some little bowls of chunky red liquid and a basket of tortilla chips. “Strange,” said Loki, examining one of the chips. “The ones Bruce buys are blue.”

Thor giggled, crunching chips. “He likes blue things.”

Loki scowled at him, but the little bowls intrigued him. “Is this a cold soup?”

“I don’t know.”

“Haven’t you asked Jane?”

Thor looked at him as if he were joking. “I don’t bring Jane here. This is my place. My man place.” He pointed a chip at Loki. “Maybe you and Banner wouldn’t fight so much if you let each other be sometimes.”

“I think we should drink it,” said Loki, lifting his little bowl with both hands as if it were a bowl of miso.

Thor lifted his too. They clinked their bowls together and downed them in a single gulp. Thor drummed his chest and coughed. “I call that a man’s drink!”

While Loki fanned his tongue, their ridiculous umbrella-festooned drinks came. Thor immediately ordered two more and more bowls of man drink. “It’s called salsa,” he told Loki after the waitress left as if Loki had somehow managed to miss it during their conversation.

After a few more salsas, Loki’s eyes began to water, but, happily, the cold drinks soothed the burning somewhat. They became completely preoccupied with gurgling salsa and dousing the flames with round after round of daiquiris. By the time he remembered why he had asked Thor to meet him, cherry stems, paper umbrellas, and tiny plastic swords lay scattered atop the table like corpses after a battle.

“Thor,” he said, feeling strangely intoxicated. Obviously, the salsas were quite potent—or the amount of alcohol in the sugary drinks was deceptive. “Brother. I…. No. The reason I—oh fuck, this shouldn’t be so difficult.” He crouched forward and whispered. “I think I might be drunk.”

Thor laughed a booming laugh. “What’s wrong, Loki? Silver tongue turned to—”

Loki stabbed the table between them with a fork. “Say ‘lead’ and you’ll be picking this fork out of your skull.”

Thor stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter and slurped the remainder of his drink. “Poor Banner. He thinks he has you housetrained. But you have him trained instead.” He turned serious and leaned forward, tapping the table. “I may need your help with Jane. She has so many opinions. And if I leave the toilet seat up, the fucking world ends.” His dramatic wiping gesture toppled several empty glasses.

As they scrambled to keep the glasses them from falling to the floor, Loki grinned at Thor and laughed in spite of himself. Thor smiled back. “Would you be my best man?” asked Loki.

Thor beamed. “Gladly!” In his enthusiasm, he slammed a fist on the table and knocked all of the glasses over. They rushed once again to save them.

Loki looked at his brother with a strange affection he hadn’t felt for him since they were small. “So, have you ever had a margarita?”

***

A soft, sort of whimpery groan woke Bruce. He found himself sitting on the couch with Loki sprawled next to him. Loki’s head stirred in his lap. Judging from the light, Bruce guessed it was midmorning. Loki moaned and burrowed his face into Bruce’s stomach. Bruce stroked a few drool-stiffened black curls off Loki’s pale cheek. He never woke with Loki without feeling a certain enchantment—a blush of good fortune, a moment of unparalleled joy. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Fuck,” Loki mumbled into Bruce’s stomach, his breath steaming through Bruce’s shirt.

Bruce kneaded Loki’s neck gently. “Poor Loki.”

Loki turned, pointing his face at the ceiling, and blinked. “Why are we out here?”

“This is where you passed out. I couldn’t get you into the bedroom.”

“You stayed with me,” said Loki. He reached up to stroke Bruce’s face.

Bruce caught Loki’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “You can’t truly be surprised by that. Not at this point.”

“It doesn’t surprise me,” Loki said softly. “But I don’t take it for granted, either.” He tried to sit up, but sank back to Bruce’s lap. “Did ‘the other guy’ and I fight last night? That’s the last time I remember feeling this terrible.”

Carefully, Bruce maneuvered out from under Loki’s head, easing a pillow under it. “No, but I have no idea what you and Thor did.” He left Loki to mix a hangover remedy, glad that the apartment’s open floor plan allowed him to keep an eye on his ailing trickster.

Loki sat up very slowly, crawling up the couch cushions. “I don’t think we fought…. Everything’s…hazy.”

“I hope you didn’t.” Bruce stirred the brew and brought it to Loki, who sat amid the pillows cradling his head. 

“My hair hurts,” said Loki miserably.

“Here,” Bruce helped Loki wrap his long fingers around a warm mug. “This should help.”

Loki took a delicate taste of the steaming liquid. “Broth?”

“Vegetable broth with vodka and a touch of ginger.”

Loki shuddered and tilted the cup. Bruce pressed his arm down. “Sips, Loki. Small sips.” Loki blinked and sipped. Bruce stroked his trickster’s thigh and couldn’t help smiling at him. “So what did you and Thor do?”

“We drank colorful drinks at a Mexican restaurant.” He had to pause to close his eyes. “And then we had similar drinks at several bars, and…” He veiled his face with a hand. “I think we went dancing. I seem to recall something called twerking. What do you call singing karaoke on the subway?”

“Being an asshole?”

Loki glared at him through the slits of his fingers. “And I think we did indoor skydiving. We might have gone bowling. And eaten Thai food…with waffles…and…chicken.” He uncovered his face and looked at Bruce in horror. “I think I ate fried chicken!”

Bruce petted Loki’s twitching shoulders. “Breathe in through your nose. You’re okay. It’s all okay.”

“Fucking Thor,” Loki growled.

“Did you ask him?”

Loki downed the remainder of the hangover remedy and shrank into the couch pillows. “I did,” he said in a small voice.

Bruce stood up, kissed Loki’s forehead, and took the empty cup. “What did he say?”

Loki frowned at him. “Yes, of course.”

“Of course,” said Bruce and began to take the cup to the kitchen when Loki gave a mournful groan. “Baby? Are you okay?”

Loki looked at him with a pained expression. “I think I might have invited a few strangers to our wedding.”

“Who did you invite?”

Loki winced. “Brooklyn.”

Bruce laughed. Loki didn’t join him. Bruce tried to quell his amusement. “Come on. I’m sure it’s not that bad. We can accommodate a few extra people. And they probably won’t show anyway—they don’t have invitations.”

Loki produced a familiar-looking envelope out of thin air. Bruce took it, opened it, and frowned at the invitation inside. “Still,” he said, “that isn’t that bad. It’s not like you could have done that with too many—” With a simple gesture, Loki made it rain invitations all over Bruce’s head.

“And that’s when I’m feeling horrid,” said Loki. “Imagine if I were feeling great.”

“You killed a lot of trees.” Bruce couldn’t conceal his disappointment.

“No, no trees were harmed during that spell.”

“You can’t create matter from nothing.”

“I didn’t,” said Loki, defensive. He drew himself up, taking on a pedantic air. “I used airborne particulate matter and changed it on a molecular— Look, it’s magic. It’s complicated. Don’t worry your pretty little Midgardian head about it.”

Bruce was not amused. “My pretty little Midgardian head supposedly houses one of Earth’s eight most brilliant minds.”

“I know,” said Loki, smiling, his eyes soft. “That’s so precious. It’s like I went to a peasant market and bought one of the only bulls who wasn’t shitting on his own tail.” He sighed dreamily. “I love you, Bruce Banner.”

And then Loki hunched over with a shudder. “Go,” Bruce told him gently. “I won’t follow you, but I’ll take care of you when you come back.”

Bruce prepared an electrolyte drink for his trickster, then sat on the couch awaiting his return. He was considering breaking his promise when Loki, looking quite pale, joined him on the couch. Loki sank next to Bruce with a small whimper. “I think my ass is casting a fire spell.”

“Poor Loki.” Bruce pulled Loki’s head into his lap and eased a hand beneath his sorcerer’s black tee shirt to rub his lean, unusually warm tummy.

Loki closed his eyes, stretching and rolling like an affectionate cat. “I love the way you touch me.”

“I love touching you.”

“Mmm…symbiosis.”

Bruce traced an infinity symbol beneath Loki’s navel. Loki reached up to stroke his face. Bruce nuzzled Loki’s hand and kissed the palm and wrist.

_We Belong_ rose from Loki’s phone on the cocktail table. Bruce picked it up and tried to give it to Loki, but Loki pushed it away. “Not now.” They listened to the song die out.

Bruce smiled as he stroked the mussed hair off Loki’s face. “And I thought I was the sappy one.”

“You are. Those were intended for you.”

“Okay.” He waved the phone at Loki. “Would my definitely non-sappy sorcerer like to watch some Maru or maybe look for Hitler cats?”

Loki answered in a small voice. “Both?”

“It’s locked. What’s your passcode?”

Loki hesitated. “Eleven, zero, two.”

“The day we got together,” Bruce said softly, touched.

“The day my life began again.”

Bruce stared into the quiet blue-green eyes. “Mine too.”

Loki snuggled against him. “I need some Maru.”

“Yes, nothing is more therapeutic than watching a fat cat squeeze himself into small objects.” He turned his attention to the phone. “So, what ringtone do you have for me?”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to be doing.”

Bruce played the ringtone and kissed Loki’s head as The Shins’ _Simple Song_ invaded the quiet. “The song I played for you when we got together. Who knew Loki could be so sentimental?”

Loki snorted irritably. “I’m not. I told you, all of that was to work on _your_ sentimentalism.”

“If I were calling you, I wouldn’t have been around to hear that.”

“It was sort of a spell. You don’t understand how spells work.”

Bruce couldn’t help but grin. “If you were feeling better, I’d be tickling you so hard right now.”

“Call your phone,” Loki ordered. “Let’s see what drivelly mush you’ve assigned to me. The Carpenters? Mumford and Sons? Some folky love song about soulmates?”

Bruce obeyed, watching Loki. As Joan Jett snarled, “I don’t give a damn ‘bout my reputation,” Loki rolled over with a scrutinizing frown.

“It’s a song about doing what you want.” He stroked a finger down his sullen Loki’s elegant nose. “And you can bounce to it.”

“If I didn’t feel so bad, I think I’d be tickling _you_.”

“Here.” Bruce lifted a few lacy scales off Loki’s chin. “Crusties. You were a droolly one last night.”

“Ugh.”

Remembering that he had promised his sick trickster some Maru, Bruce returned his attention to Loki’s phone. “Look. You have a text from Thor. Do you want to read it?”

Loki shaded his eyes with a little groan. “You read it.”

“Let’s see. He says, ‘Good morning, Brother! I arranged your meeting with Father for next Thursday. My day! LOL. Smiley face. Smiley face. Sorry there is no Lokiday. Sad face. Sad face. Farewell, Brother!’ And that’s it. What meeting is he talking about?”

Loki was quiet for a long moment. “I haven’t seen my children since I fell from the Bifrost. They’re grown—and it’s not as if we’re that close—but I would like them to attend the wedding. I want to see them. And I want to set a good example for once.” He turned his head to stare up at Bruce. “For the first time in my life, I’m truly proud of what I’m doing. I want to share that with them. I want to share you.”

Bruce hugged Loki’s head and shoulders close. “Oh, Loki. Of course they should be there.” He enjoyed the heat of Loki’s breath against him. “But why do you have to meet with Odin?” He knew Loki and Odin didn’t get along, and he didn’t think the relationship was healthy for Loki.

“They can’t visit Midgard without Odin’s permission.” Loki stared at the ceiling. “I asked Thor to set up an audience with the All-Father. Thor, of course, wants me to invite him to the wedding and thinks we’ll end up being a happy family.” He looked up at Bruce in total despair. “But it will just be the way it always is. He’ll accuse me of one thing or another; I’ll get angry; I’ll get nothing I want, and no matter what, I’ll come away from it feeling as if I’ve been cut to ribbons.”

Bruce clutched Loki’s hand and cradled it against his chest. “No, you’re a different person now. I think becoming a happy family might be too much to expect, but we should be able to convince him to let your children attend the wedding.”

Loki mashed his face against Bruce. “The mere thought of this makes me sick. What am I going to do?”

Bruce ran his fingers through Loki’s hair. “We’ll strategize. There are ways to deal with people like him. I’ll help you.” Loki hugged him. Bruce returned the embrace. “Remember, you’re not alone anymore, Loki. Not anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Regarding a Loki day, one of my clever readers offered this: "Believe it or not, Saturday is Loki's day. Used to be called Laugardagr and it was the day for doing laundry. Sætere according to some sources was another name for Loki, meaning "seducer", and Sæterdæg comes from that."
> 
> Okay, is it just me, or did Saturday just get a whole lot sexier?


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later, Bruce coaxed Loki into the area of the apartment that was probably intended to have been a dining area, but they used for exercise. Bruce had prepared the space by lighting incense, frankincense and sandalwood, but Loki didn’t seem to notice. Loki looked about for a moment, then scoffed. “We did yoga this morning, and it’s not a weight day.”

“We’re not doing yoga or weights. Now, face me and stand like this.” Bruce modeled something similar to the yoga position ‘upright steadiness,’ also known as _Tadasana_ , the Mountain, and put his arms out in front of him with his hands raised. Loki watched him skeptically. “It’s a simple exercise,” Bruce said. “Think of it as an experiment,” he added when Loki rolled his eyes.

With a very put upon sigh, Loki adopted Bruce’s stance. “This looks like fucking yoga to me.”

“It’s not.” Bruce smiled at his pissy trickster. “Press your palms to mine.”

“Is it a wedding dance?”

“No.”

“Are we going to fuck?”

“Not yet.”

“Can we fuck afterward?”

“Of course. Can you give me your attention for maybe five minutes?”

Another sour little eye roll. “Fine.”

“Using only your arms, try to push me back.”

Loki frowned. “When you’re just a little Midgardian scientist, I’m significantly stronger than you.”

“I’m going to pretend that description didn’t hurt my feelings.” He couldn’t help smiling. “Push me back.”

“It won’t be fair.”

He felt a surge of love so strong that it was all he could do to maintain his pose and not fuck Loki right then and there. “I know. Do it anyway.” Loki complied. Bruce relaxed his arms as Loki pushed against him. Their hands dropped to either side, palms fused.

“I won,” said Loki.

“Did you? You didn’t push me back. I’m exactly where I was before. You’ve gained nothing.” He suppressed a smile. “Try again.”

They repeated the exercise, with the same result. Loki snarled. “You’re fucking this up by going limp. And you aren’t winning either.”

“No. I’m not. I’m also not letting you defeat me.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Once more?”

“We can do this all day if you want.”

Loki snorted. They resumed their positions. This time, as Bruce let the momentum of Loki’s pushing arms guide his hands aside, he saw a flash of movement beneath him. One of Loki’s long legs swept his feet out from under him. He landed heavily on his backside. Pain exploded through his groin. He caught the Hulk between his teeth and pushed him down as pain flared up from his bruised testicles to his stomach.

“I won,” said Loki.

“You’re lucky I saw that coming,” Bruce grumbled, eyes squeezed shut, “or ‘the other guy’ would be playing hacky sack with you all over the apartment right now.” With effort, he opened his eyes to scowl up at Loki, who stood with his hands on his hips looking much too smug. “And I said using only your arms.” He started to get up, then elected to stay on the floor for a moment. “You cheated.”

“I still won.”

“This wasn’t a game. I was trying to illustrate a point.”

“That cheaters always win?”

Bruce snorted and scrambled, rather inelegantly, to his feet. “You do suck sometimes,” he said, not quite under his breath. He hobbled to the couch and lay down in a fetal position.

“Oh no!”

He opened his eyes and found Loki, looking quite distraught, kneeling beside him. “What now?”

“You’re hurt!” Apparently, this was news. Loki stroked his thigh. “Poor Bruce. What happened?”

“Some horrible trickster god dumped me on my sack. If you see him, tell him payback’s a bitch, and I’ve got a shiny new ball crusher with his name on it.”

“You’re rather ill-tempered when you’re in pain.”

Bruce almost laughed. “This is not ill-tempered.”

Loki snaked a hand beneath Bruce’s thigh to rub his stomach. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” Bruce sighed. “You just wanted to win.” He gave a little gasp as the hand turned cold enough to feel through his shirt. Once the shock had worn off, it felt good.

“Poor Bruce,” Loki whispered, free hand easing Bruce’s bamboo lounge pants down. “How did this—” Loki grinned hugely. “You’re not wearing underwear!”

“Yes, that’s how it happened—everything was free to get squished.”

“That’s kind of sexy.”

“Not when it’s me. I don’t enjoy pain the way you do.”

“I’m sorry.” Loki, continuing to remove Bruce’s pants, couldn’t have sounded more sincere. His tongue swirled around Bruce’s hipbone as he encouraged a thigh up. “Kisses will make it better?”

“I think—” His breath caught as abnormally cool fingers stroked his aching balls. “That’s a good start.”

Loki touched a finger to his tongue like some licky person flipping through a book, then lightly brushed it against Bruce’s ballsack. The coolness of Loki’s spelled tongue calmed the heat of the bruised flesh. Loki’s hands and mouth and tongue traveled Bruce’s genitals with a strange, intense tenderness. His attentions seemed careful and gentle in a way the sorcerer usually reserved only for Daenerys.

As Bruce tried to puzzle out how this god of pure sweetness related to the one who needed to trip him to win something that wasn’t even a competition, Loki’s cool tongue slithered around his rim. And then there was nothing but the chill invading his body, the warm lips around the cold tongue, and Loki’s eyes, enigmatic and beautiful, watching him. Blood rushed through Bruce’s body. He groaned as his cock lifted, as Loki kissed and probed his hole with that frosty tongue, as a cold hand carefully fondled his balls.

Loki stopped rimming and sucked his index finger in a way that made Bruce’s cock twitch. Loki noticed with a smirk and gave the glans a warm-lipped little kiss. He snaked his chilly tongue along Bruce’s perineum and inserted the wet, cold finger. Bruce’s breath hitched.

As Loki’s cold tongue outlined the lower edge of Bruce’s sack, Loki’s icy finger seduced his prostate. Bruce wanted to watch Loki work, but his eyes kept rolling back in his head. When Loki began kissing his way up Bruce’s shaft, Bruce had to stop him.

“Wait!”

Loki came off Bruce’s cock, his eyes wide in alarm. “What?”

Bruce patted his chest. “Get up here. I need your hole.”

Loki kissed the inside of Bruce’s thigh. “I’m taking care of you.”

“I. Need. Your. Hole.” He put on his best stern face. “Now.”

Loki grinned and stripped. Bruce peeled off his shirt so he could feel Loki’s skin against his. Loki straddled him backwards. Bruce squeezed two handfuls of Loki’s gorgeous ass, happy to be reunited with it. Loki resumed his icy-tongued blow job, and Bruce licked the rosy edges of Loki’s hole. He ran his hands down Loki’s thighs as he bathed Loki’s rim and perineum with long, heavy strokes.

He squeezed Loki’s thighs as his glans hit the back of Loki’s throat. He nibbled Loki’s tailbone and sucked Loki’s hole. He sucked hard and tugged on Loki’s cock. He didn’t just want to make love to Loki. He wanted to eat him alive. He gnawed around Loki’s hole, frantic, closed his teeth around it and sucked and pushed his tongue deep.

Loki shuddered. Pre-cum slicked Bruce’s hand as he jacked Loki’s cock. He continued chewing and frenching Loki’s hot hole. Pleasure raced through him as Loki sucked his cock deep and fingered his prostate. He could feel everything building—as if, connected, they had become part of some strange geology—some steadily growing landmass always on the brink of imploding. His tongue tip found Loki’s prostate and caressed a husky moan from Loki’s throat. The sound—sweet and surprised, a bask at the end—was Bruce’s tipping point. He came in a long, rolling throe of orgasm. Loki joined him, icing his chest with warm cum.

They rearranged themselves and sat, holding each other, on the couch. Loki lapped his cum off Bruce’s chest and kissed him, sharing it with him, until it was gone. They continued to kiss for a while afterward, then Loki pulled away with a concerned expression. “Was that dumb game supposed to help me with Odin?”

“It wasn’t a game. I was trying to illustrate a point.”

Loki frowned anxiously. “What was the point exactly?”

Bruce sighed a laugh. “Loki always wins.”

Loki, however, had turned serious. “I don’t know that I ever won anything until I came to live with you.” He looked at Bruce with troubled eyes. “My entire life has been a series of failures.” His expression grew pensive as he stroked Bruce’s face. “You were trying to help me. You always try to help me.”

Bruce kissed the side of Loki’s head. “It’s okay, baby. Serves me right for trying to have a guru moment.”

In truth, Bruce had wanted, badly wanted, to help Loki deal with Odin better. He had been nine years old when his father had been locked away in a mental institution. He hadn’t shed a single tear for the man. He had never missed him. Not only had the sociopathic monster abused him in every possible way during their nine years together, he had also beaten and murdered Bruce’s mother. Years later, the state of Ohio released the aging killer into his son’s custody. Bruce was a young man by then, but one look into his father’s cruel eyes and he felt nine years old again.

Somehow, he had imagined helping Loki would throw an imaginary lifeline to his younger self—that helping Loki could ease the pain of not being able to understand nor bear his tragic relationship with his own father. He burrowed his nose in Loki’s black hair. “It was an arrogant wish,” he confessed. “How can I presume to teach you to make your life better when mine’s been nothing but fucked up?”

Loki surprised him with a swift kiss on the lips. “Stop,” Loki said softly. “I don’t say this often enough, but I’ve never known a more incredible person than you. The way you contain the beast inside you and channel him into doing good amazes me. Bruce.” Loki said his name in that way that raised chills over his shoulders. “I am in constant awe of your magic.”

“It isn’t magic,” said Bruce, touched.

Loki sat up suddenly, all business. “So, before I fucked up your demonstration, you were trying to show me that…when someone pushes against you, just go limp like a dead animal and—”

“You don’t have to push back. If you don’t react, they gain nothing. You can’t control what someone else does, but you can control your reaction to it. You don’t have to throw a tantrum; you don’t even have to argue. You can just let their stupidity fall to the side and feel gratified knowing they’ve won nothing.”

Loki looked uneasy.

“Loki, from everything I’ve learned about Odin, it sounds like he has narcissistic personality disorder. He made Thor the golden child and you the scapegoat. He loves you when you’re doing what he wants and tears his love away the moment you’re not.”

Loki considered that a moment. “Yes.”

“That’s not the way a healthy parent acts. A good father teaches his children to feel secure by protecting them and loving them—always—not just when it’s convenient, not just when the child is doing something the father wants or something he can boast about. Children need love. Depriving a child of love is abusive.” Loki remained silent, so Bruce continued. “And Odin is grandiose and entitled and believes the world revolves around him. I mean, king of the gods, really? And All-Father? Could that ego be more inflated? Fuck.”

“That’s true….”

“Did he ever try to make you believe something happened one way, when you knew it happened differently?”

Loki shuddered. “Yes.”

“That’s called gaslighting. That’s a form of emotional abuse.” Bruce took a moment to manage his anger. “When you did things together, they were only things he enjoyed, right? If you happened to enjoy it too, that was nice for you, but your enjoyment of an activity wasn’t important to him.”

“Yes.” Loki frowned thoughtfully. “Thor was fortunate in that he liked most of the things Fa—Odin wanted to do, but even when Thor didn’t like something, we would do it anyway.”

“He undermined your accomplishments by claiming them as his own or somehow credited himself for your success?”

Loki sat back, clutching his elbows. “Yes. Like with Sleipnir….”

“His behaviors shaped yours,” Bruce said gently. “You constantly sought his approval. He either ignored or criticized you. You felt unloved and unworthy….” The tears beginning to glisten in Loki’s eyes broke his heart. “And sometimes you still do.” He started to hug Loki, but the sorcerer grabbed him instead, squeezing him with the fevered intensity of a toddler reuniting with a favorite stuffed bear.

Bruce struggled for breath and rubbed Loki’s back. “He will never give you the approval you seek. He will never be the father you want. Blowing up at him, scheming against him, trying to get him to acknowledge your worth—these things only hurt you. They make no difference to him because he is the center of his own universe; no one else matters.”

Loki pulled away to wipe his eyes. “Pepper said I should invite him to the wedding. She said I should forgive him and that I might be able to have a better relationship with him now. I’m an Avenger; he should be proud of me.”

“He should be,” Bruce agreed. “But if he’s what I suspect he is, he’s probably incapable of doing that. People who don’t understand what a narcissistic parent is like often offer the worst advice. They mean well, but their experiences are based on dealing with normal, healthy people. I don’t think Odin is either normal or healthy.”

Loki sniffled and stared out the window. He didn’t say anything.

“When you let his judgment define you, you give him power over you. Stay calm and see him for who he truly is—not a king of gods, but a trivial, self-important fool who doesn’t know how to love.” Bruce stroked Loki’s long, lean thigh. “In your heart, you probably already know that’s who he is.”

Loki glanced down at his hands, then stared back at the window. “Things said in anger aren’t usually true.”

“But sometimes they are.” He brushed his fingers along Loki’s forearm. “One of the differences between the golden child and the scapegoat is that the golden child is more willing to be a blank screen for the narcissistic parent to project his own image onto, while something in the scapegoat challenges the parent’s projection.”

Loki looked at him warily.

“They called you the god of lies, but you may have been the only one of them speaking anything resembling truth.”

The air in the apartment felt stagnant and heavy. The slits of light through the blinds had turned to shadow. Loki sat still as a statue, too beautiful for anyone to mistake as Midgardian, staring out the window at the absent sun. Bruce caressed his shoulder. “Baby, it’s going to be okay. It might even be kind of fun, huh? I’ll be right beside you the whole time you’re with him, and maybe you’ll get to show me around the palace?”

Loki turned to him with damp eyes. “No. It’s just me. He’s already said you can’t come.”

Bruce tamed a curl of green rage. He patted Loki’s knee reassuringly. “You won’t need me anyway. You’re going to be fine.”

***

Thursday came all too soon. Loki was too nervous to eat even though Bruce made his favorite breakfast—tofu scramble sprinkled with nutritional yeast. Bruce watched him pick at it in a ginger, most unLoki-like fashion. He got up from his barstool beside Loki, stood behind him, and hugged him. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, planting kisses on Loki’s neck.

“Yes, of course it will,” said Loki. But a slight tremor in his voice undercut his usual bravado. Still hugging Loki from behind, Bruce massaged the sorcerer’s tense stomach. Loki made a pitifully sweet little noise—something between a whimper and a purr—and bent his head to rest it against Bruce’s.

Bruce rubbed until he felt Loki relax, and then he rubbed him a little more. Finally, he kissed Loki’s cheek. “Go rest on the couch while I make you a blueberry smoothie with hemp powder.”

Loki pulled him around for a deep, luxurious kiss. Feeling somewhat lightheaded, Bruce watched Loki recline on the couch with the careless grace of a languid model in some painting. He prepared the smoothie and brought it to Loki, who perked up to drink it. While Loki drank, Bruce pulled out the little box he had been carrying in the pocket of his robe. He sat it on the cocktail table in front of the trickster.

Loki squealed. “Present!”

“Why don’t you drink your—”

Loki downed the rest of the smoothie in a single gulp, and, with the speed of a three-card-monte dealer, exchanged his empty glass for the gift box. His eyes lit up as he shook the box. “Oh, jewelry!”

Bruce tried to manage Loki’s expectations. “It’s not like it’s Cartier or anything. It’s just a simple—”

Loki uttered a single quiet note. His fingers, which had been rapidly dissecting the paper and box, held still. He ran a fingertip over the gold bracelet’s engraved letters. Loki read the inscription aloud. “Nobody can hurt me without my permission. –Mahatma Gandhi.” He looked at Bruce with large, shimmering eyes.

“There’s something on the back too.”

Loki flipped the bracelet over. He grinned. “You are worthy. –Bruce Banner.”

“You are. Don’t let Odin or anyone else tell you that you’re not.”

Loki hissed in amusement as he looked down at the bracelet and stroked the words, but a tear fell onto his hand. “I love you,” he said softly. He grabbed Bruce and sighed against him. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He snapped away and presented Bruce his left wrist. “Please?” He inhaled a deep, happy breath as Bruce complied.

***

Loki fidgeted with his bracelet while he and Bruce waited in Central Park for Thor. He ran a finger pad over the inscription again and again, picturing it in his mind as if it were a spell. He smiled when his sweet Midgardian scientist’s arms closed about his waist.

“I’ll be counting the picoseconds until you return,” said Bruce, a grin in his voice.

A small shadow passed through Loki’s being. “What if—what if Odin tries to keep me there? What if— I have so many enemies. What if he wants to strengthen his support with them by imprisoning me there?”

Bruce slid around to face Loki, taking Loki’s hands in his and gripping them firmly. His gaze held Loki’s fast. With utter and complete sincerity he said, “If he tries to keep you there, I will find a way to Asgard, and I will crush it to dust with my bare green hands until I find you.”

Loki stared at him in amazement. He wasn’t certain what shocked him more—the ruthlessness of the statement or Bruce’s acknowledgement of the Hulk as part of him. “You’re serious.”

“I am. I may be a small Midgardian scientist, but don’t ever doubt my determination.” He held Loki’s cheek, his eyes cutting through every wall and mask until they bored into Loki’s most hidden, most authentic self. Loki felt an uneasy instant of vulnerability. Bruce’s eyes misted. “And don’t ever doubt my love.”

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Aside from his bracers and his right pauldron, Loki had left his armor at home. He stepped into the familiar courtyard bareheaded, clothed stylishly but simply in a green-trimmed duster over a black tunic and black pants. Although he wore a dagger at his belt, his black boots hid no weapons.

He was not surprised when six palace guards, led by Lady Sif, met them, hailed Thor, and then ordered Loki to surrender his weapons. He complied, even biting the tip of his tongue to avoid antagonizing them as they frisked him. He was surprised, however, when Sif opened the wooden box one of the guards carried and extracted from it a metal prisoner’s belt and several heavy chains.

He looked at Thor in horror. “What’s this?”

Sif smiled. “What’s wrong, Loki? I thought you liked chains.”

He stepped back as Sif approached him. “I’m not your prisoner.” To Thor he growled, “What’s the meaning of this?”

Thor stepped between Loki and Sif. “He was pardoned. And he has proven himself an ally, honorable and good, while fighting at my side. These chains are of no use here, Sif.”

Sif narrowed her eyes at Loki. “If he wishes to enter the throne room, he will only do so in uru chains, by the All-Father’s command!” Her gaze didn’t soften as she looked at Thor. “Do you not remember the last time his step haunted these halls? Only your courage saved our king’s life from this forked-tongued serpent’s assassination plot.”

Loki couldn’t help himself. “It wasn’t an assassination plot. I never intended him harm. For fuck’s sake, Sif. We grew up together. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

Thor answered Sif’s bemused glance. “Midgard. I blame his human—and something called _Robot Chicken_.”

“If you wish to see the All-Father, you must do so in chains,” Sif told Loki.

“Thor—”

“Loki,” Thor said in a soft voice, “it’s just a precaution. It means nothing.”

Loki felt the world fall away beneath his feet. He pressed against Thor’s shoulder. “Please,” he whispered. “It’s different now. I’m different. Don’t let them do this to me. Don’t let them keep me here.”

“I swear, I will not let them imprison you.”

Loki took a steadying breath. “You’re always saying you love me. This time, don’t let go.”

Thor cocked his head to the side. “ _You_ let go.”

“You could have held more tightly.”

“I tried. You let go. You wanted to fall.”

“Nobody loved me.”

“I loved you,” said Thor. “But you tried to kill me.”

“You tried to kill _me_.”

“You tried to kill me first!”

“Enough!” cried Sif. She shook the chains at Loki. “If you want to see the All-Father, you must wear these!”

Loki thought of his children, and steeled himself with that thought. Against all of his instincts, he allowed the guards to bind him. He watched Thor as the business was done. He kept his spine stiff, held his head high, maintained a slight superior sneer. Thor might have seen nothing significant in the mandate, but Loki knew, at its mildest, this was an attempt by the All-Father to humiliate him. Loki refused to give him that pleasure.

In a procession, they followed Sif to the throne room’s antechamber. There, the Warriors Three awaited their arrival. Loki was not especially happy to see them. The feeling seemed mutual. Worse, much to his dismay, they enticed Thor away to the mead hall. He watched Thor leave with his friends, and turned to find Sif standing before him with a cruel little smile.

Her fist flew at his stomach, but his abdominal muscles deflected the blow. He returned her smile. She glowered at him. “You must have grown stronger.”

“Or you’ve become weaker.”

She shoved a knee into his balls. He hunched forward in pain. He realized what was coming next, but could do nothing to avoid it. She threw a vicious uppercut to his gut. His muscles, unable to flex after the racking, offered little resistance. The blow sank deep. He lost his breath in a pained groan.

Sif pulled him up to face her. “Is that the sound you make when your little Midgardian spears you with his cock?”

With effort he said, “That’s the sound Thor’s little Midgardian makes when he hammers her.” He laughed as she punched his jaw. Breathlessly, he managed to rankle her a bit more. “And a sweet, tight little thing she is too. He won’t be exploring your echo chamber again, Lady Sif.”

One of the guards chuckled. He caught the man’s eye as he struggled up. “You haven’t been there, have you?”

Sif wheeled on the man. “Don’t answer that! You’re not to talk to the prisoner!” She caught Loki by his chin and glared into his face. “You mock me now, but there was a time when you craved entrance to my cavern of desire.”

“Yes, but all of the bats flying out frightened me away.” That earned him a few more blows, but they were well worth it—not only for the satisfaction provoking Sif always gave him, but because the muffled amusement of the guards was like music. Although they were far from allies, it was more difficult to kill a man once one shared a laugh with him.

“With all due respect, my lady,” said one of the guards, “our orders were only to restrain the god of lies, not to harm him.”

Sif answered the guard with a cold glower, then turned to Loki. “You filthy Jotun traitor,” she snarled. “You deserve so much worse than a little time in a cell and a frolic on Midgard.”

“I’ve changed,” Loki told her. “But I do frolic on Midgard. I frolic like crazy.”

She stared at him, fuming but uncertain, her nostrils flaring. Loki imagined the Hulk wadding her into a ball and dribbling her through the palace’s sparkling halls. The thought pleased him. He smiled graciously into Sif’s stupid, angry face.

The royal page entered and bowed to Sif. He looked at Loki as if he had never seen him before. “The King will see you now.”

A wave of dread washed through Loki. All of the boldness he had felt only seconds ago left him. He caught hold of himself quickly. He put on a brave face and assumed an air of nonchalance. Sif had been right—he did like chains. And he looked damned good in them too. Alongside Sif and flanked by guards, Loki strolled into the throne room as if he owned it.

He stopped before Odin’s throne and kneeled, just as everyone else did.

“You may rise,” said Odin. He dismissed Sif and the soldiers with an abrupt little wave. “Leave us.”

Sif hesitated. Loki wondered if the old man was tapping that.

“You think me incapable of handling a chained Jotun kit?” boomed Odin. “I, who am king of the gods?”

“But he has deceived us before,” said Sif.

Odin pulled a sword and pointed the end of it at Loki’s throat. “Not again. I am more than a match for this one.”

Loki stayed very still. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sif bow and exit the throne room. Now, he was completely alone with Odin. The sword’s tip remained beneath his chin. Odin didn’t move. Silence filled the room.

Finally, Loki said, in a voice that he hoped didn’t shake, “I come before you, great All-Father, in peace, to respectfully request—”

“Who do you think you are?” said Odin, pressing the sword against Loki’s throat. “How dare you come before me and ask for anything!” At last Odin lowered his sword, but his voice shook the hall. “After all I did for you! You would have died an ugly blue cub, mewling in the snow, had I not saved you! You owe me your life! But what do I get from you? Your whole life—naught but mischief and lies.”

Loki frowned. “That’s painting it with a broad stroke, don’t you think? It wasn’t all—”

“You were never anything but a disappointment. I tried. I waited for you to grow to manhood, hoped you would become a great warrior. But no. You always hid behind words and magic. You could not even take a woman for yourself; you only wanted to be taken like a woman. And now you want my wife and those monsters you spawned to watch you prance about with your Midgardian cocksucker while you mock marriage, is that right?”

“Not exactly, no.” He looked at Odin a little desperately. “I know we’ve had our problems, but I’m different now. I’m an Avenger—like Thor. So is the man I’m marrying. He’s brave and wise. You would like him, Father.” He bit his tongue for saying the word, but he had meant it. He so wanted Odin’s love. He had always, always wanted Odin’s love.

“It was a good decision I made to send you to study with the man who becomes a green beast,” said Odin, chest out. “A wise decision.”

“Yes,” said Loki. “It was. He has helped me become a better version of myself—helped me in so many ways. I left Asgard a villain, but I stand before you a changed god—a hero of Midgard.”

“Do not throw yourself a parade, Loki.” Odin scoffed. “If you truly are a hero, you did not have a damned thing to do with it. I spared your life when I found you abandoned by your people. I raised you to be a hero. I spared your life yet again when you returned, defeated, to my realm. And I sent you to train with the green man. If you are a hero, Loki, it is only because of me.”

Although Odin’s words hurt, they reminded Loki of something Bruce had said—that narcissistic parents took credit for their children’s accomplishments.

“Right,” said Loki, rankled. “And you were never anything but nice to me. Like when you stole my firstborn and claimed him as your own—”

“You gave Sleipnir to me—as a gift.”

“You took him! He was mine—my son—and you took him!”

Odin fanned Loki’s accusations aside. “You have a woman’s vile heart and tongue, boy! You GAVE him to me. The fault is not mine if you choose to remember it differently.”

“What about when you let Brokk sew my mouth shut? And all of you stood around me and laughed while blood oozed from the wounds in my lips. Is that an inaccurate memory too?”

“That? You make it sound so scandalous. Everyone agreed, it was well played on all sides.”

“Well played?” Loki laughed in bitter disbelief. His anger flared. “You let them torture me!”

“You always were the sensitive one. Whine, whine this and whine, whine that. No one hurt you overmuch. And you heal, so it matters not.” His single eye, fierce and mesmerizing, watched Loki with an eagle’s attention. “Do you believe your own lies now?”

“I remember it,” said Loki darkly. “The pain. The laughter. I wish I could forget.”

“Your head is so clouded with jealousy and emotions—all of your memories are lies.”

“Gaslighting,” said Loki, not realizing for a moment that he’d said it aloud. Despite the uru chains, the fingers of his right hand found the bracelet on his left. He let the words smother his temper. He had not come here to argue with Odin. He steadied himself with a breath. “The past is the past. My only concern today is the future. All-Father, I am here to respectfully request your permission for my children to attend my wedding on Midgard.”

Odin sat back and stroked his beard thoughtfully. His good eye roamed the ceiling, as if seeing beyond it to other, far flung realms. He looked at Loki again. “No.”

Loki blinked. “No? Just like that? But—I went limp. You’re not supposed to say no!”

Odin stared down at him with unbridled disgust. “I have heard from you all that I will hear. Be gone from me!” He called the guards as Loki’s protests echoed off the stone walls.

Loki struggled as the guards hauled him away, but the chains made him easy for them to manage. They dragged him into the antechamber. He braced himself for more fun with Lady Sif, but she was gone. Instead, Frigga greeted him, her face tight with concern.

He forgot himself in his excitement, joy breaking out on his face. “Mother!”

“Oh, Loki,” she said softly.

“You’ll come, won’t you? You’ll come to Midgard to see me married.”

“You know he won’t permit it. And it is…an unnatural thing, this ceremony of yours.”

“Right.” He rolled his eyes with a bitter smile. “What a fool I am to suppose you would want to play a part in my life. You never even missed me.”

She gazed at him with moist eyes. “Not a day passed without some stray thought turning to you.”

The tender words should have touched Loki, but they fell as teardrops on a parched land. He looked at her, but could say nothing. His foster mother dismissed the guards, telling them to leave her with her son.

“So, now I’m your son?” He flinched ever so slightly as her gentle fingers grazed the bruise on his jaw.

“You became mine the day you were brought to me,” she said, loosening his chains. They fell to the floor with a heavy, clanking sound. “I have cared for you ever since you came to us.”

“And yet I’ve never heard a sound so loud as your silence.”

“I always loved you, Loki.”

“Not enough.” Raw with despair, he turned from her. “Not enough to raise your voice to him. Not enough to believe me. Not enough to love me as I am without wishing I were something else.” He faced her, feeling the need to look in her eyes. “I had to go to Midgard to discover what love feels like. Bruce loves me. He accepts me. No Asgardian was ever capable of that.”

She had the gall to look on him with pity. “He accepts you because he changed you. He turned you into what he wanted.”

“I have changed.” He rubbed his wrists where the manacles had been. His fingertips found the gold bracelet. “But he loved me before that. I changed because he loved me.”

She studied him quietly, then said, “Odin believes this marriage has nothing to do with love. He says this is another of your clever schemes—shielding yourself from your enemies with the green beast.”

“As usual,” said Loki, “he understands me not at all.”

“Perhaps so. I would prefer to believe you’ve grown capable of sharing your love with something besides your own reflection.”

Loki feigned dark humor, but he only felt the dark. “Your every word’s a kindness.”

“I want to believe in your love, Loki, but it has never been your nature. Loving someone who knows nothing of that feeling himself can be crueler than any torture.” Her eyes were black worlds of frozen water. “If your words are false, I pity your Midgardian with my entire heart.”

He could say nothing for a moment, could only stare into her eyes. Shaking off a chill, he cleared his throat and handed her a small bundle of invitations, tied with a green ribbon. “Would you see that these reach my children?”

“I doubt he will change his mind—”

“I know, but I want them to know I thought about them.” He shrugged, feeling foolish suddenly. “A memento.” His heart clenched as her hand fastened around the envelopes, trembling as if he had offered her a snake. Nevertheless, he drew another out of the air. “And this one’s for you.”

***

Bruce put down his tablet as Loki entered the room. He had been trying to write his wedding vows in bed, waiting for Loki to come home. As always, Loki’s arrival felt like a sun awakening a lost world; warmth suffused Bruce’s skin and shadows fell from his eyes. “At last,” he said. “I was beginning to worry.”

Wordlessly, Loki unbuckled his bracers and removed his duster.

“How did it go?” asked Bruce.

Loki continued to undress. “It went.” He paused, naked. “The bracelet,” he said, smiling. It was the saddest smile Bruce had ever seen. “It was like having a piece of you with me. Thank you for that.”

“I’m glad it helped.”

“He refused my request. I didn’t expect him to honor it.”

“Maybe Thor can help. Maybe there’s another way.” But he didn’t think Loki was listening anymore. The sorcerer stood staring into nothingness a few feet away from the bed, as if stuck there. “Loki?” Bruce asked softly.

“I think,” said Loki without looking up, “I’ve finally realized that nothing I do will ever be good enough for him. And she will never love me the way I want.” He closed his eyes with a trembling exhalation. “They can’t _see_ me. And they never will.”

Bruce moved across the bed toward him. “Oh, Loki,” he soothed, not knowing what else to say.

“It should feel good, shouldn’t it? To finally be free of all of that trying, all of that wretched flailing about for approval?” He began to scoff but gasped instead, his hands knit into fists at his chest. “But it feels like a death.” He dissolved into tears, crumbling like a breaking dam, sinking to his knees and folding over.

Bruce was beside him in an instant. He pulled Loki into his arms, kissed his tears, and guided him toward the bed. “It is a death,” he said, holding Loki against his chest. “It’s the death of the hope you had of having a normal, healthy relationship with your parents. There’s no shame in grieving that loss.”

His face burned as he held his own tears in check. Loki’s anguish reminded him of when he had come to terms with a similar reality. For a moment, Bruce wanted to reveal this to Loki. But Loki needed comfort; Bruce’s sorrows would only distract him, and Bruce, more than anything else, wanted Loki to heal.

Yet he knew the pain Loki described. He and Loki shared so many similar experiences, and sometimes he thought it helpful to share these with the sorcerer. This wasn’t one of those times. Someday, perhaps, he would reveal the secrets of his childhood to Loki, exhume all of the abuse and pain. But, for now, he wanted Loki to focus on recovering from his grief. And, to his shame, Bruce had to admit to himself that he liked that Loki looked at him as if he were whole—as if his childhood hadn’t been filled with torture that had fractured his psyche into pieces.

Loki tried to say something but couldn’t quite manage it. Bruce rubbed the nape of Loki’s neck and kissed his head. “Don’t talk,” Bruce told him, holding him firmly. “Just let it go.”

Usually, when Loki was upset, Bruce tried to soothe or distract him. This time, however, for the most part, he only held his lover, letting himself serve as Loki’s private wailing wall. Loki continued to weep, quietly, brokenly, until, at last, he quieted and his breathing evened. Bruce gripped him a little more fiercely, moved by the fact that Loki had cried himself to sleep. “It might be good that you saw him by yourself this time,” he whispered into Loki’s fragrant black hair. “But I swear to you, so long as I live, you will never have to face him alone again.”

And this, Bruce etched on his own heart as a sacred, secret vow.

  



	8. Chapter 8

Loki woke with the dawn. Lying naked, tangled in the sheets, with the sun still a faint hope beyond the gray, he felt crushed beneath Frigga’s words. Odin thought his love was a lie, and Frigga believed him as cold as the All-Father. He did love Bruce, didn’t he? What he felt—that was love, it must be. Surrounded by shadows, he grew unsure. But one thing, he knew, and he believed it now without a shred of doubt—Bruce loved him.

And then something snuck into the smug safety of that thought and began to spoil it. Why? Why did Bruce love him? Bruce was so, so good. And Loki— He banished all of his pretense and felt heartsick at what he found beneath it. Why would _anyone_ love him?

Was that his critical inner voice? It felt so real. It resonated with truth. “I don’t know why you love me,” he said softly, watching Bruce’s sleeping face. “I only know that I’m grateful for it.”

He slipped into his robe and snuck into the kitchen. He opened the blinds for the orchids, loaded the French press, and heated water for coffee. As he pulled two cups from the kitchen cabinet, he felt Bruce behind him. He relaxed against Bruce’s chest, enjoying the feel of arms around him, of this closeness—of Bruce’s lips, warm, against his neck. “You do know how much I love you, don’t you?” he whispered to his scientist, not wanting to wake the sleepy world around them.

“Sometimes, it’s the only thing I do know,” said Bruce, hugging him a little more firmly from behind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I can get pregnant.” He felt powerless and small, strangely fragile, as if he were made of flakes of glass held together by spider webs. “And I’m sorry I was angry that you didn’t want to have children.” He turned to hold Bruce in his arms. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t have much to do with the raising of my other children. I suppose I thought raising one together would be fun.”

Bruce’s spine stiffened. “Loki, I—”

Loki rubbed Bruce’s back reassuringly. “It’s okay. I’m not trying to get you to change your mind. You were right. You were so right. It was a foolish notion. Look at my role models—I’m no better. I’m more like Odin than his own son. I’m emotionally volatile and self-absorbed—I’m so damaged. I’m a narcissist too. I’d be a terrible parent.”

Bruce pulled back and took Loki’s face in both hands. “Don’t say that! You’re not your father. You have a few narcissistic tendencies, so do many people. And it’s natural that you would adopt some of his behaviors. But you’re not like he is. You’re not content to believe your own lies, to hide behind some veil of arrogance and fury. You try so hard to be a better person. People who were abused as children are capable of becoming perfectly good parents. Just because you had a fucked-up childhood and fucked-up parents, that doesn’t mean—”

Bruce stared into Loki’s eyes, but didn’t finish his thought. Loki waited. He frowned anxiously as the seconds lengthened.

“Yes,” Bruce said, voice hushed in awe.

Loki stared at him warily.

“Not right now. Not too soon,” Bruce said slowly. “But let’s do it.” He smiled at Loki. “Let’s make babies, Loki!”

Shocked, Loki stumbled backward, catching himself on the kitchen counter. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” Bruce squeezed Loki’s hip and brushed a kiss across his clavicle. “I absolutely do.”

Loki wrapped around Bruce happily and crushed his mouth against the scientist’s lips. He laughed as they kissed their way around the kitchen, his hand slipping away from Bruce’s yearning hips to fondle the drawers. Utensils. Dish towels. Coupons and mysterious lids. Ah ha—kitchen toys! Still kissing, he pulled the drawer open to rifle through its contents—several pairs of cuffs, a rubber bit, a posture bar and collar, assorted nipple clamps, a blindfold, a ball gag, black duct tape, a turkey baster despite the fact that they never cooked turkey.

He pulled away to show Bruce the duct tape. Apparently, while he had been raiding drawers, Bruce had been raiding cabinets; Bruce held a slender jar of maple syrup in front of Loki’s face. Loki handed him the tape with a smirk. “I think it’s going to be a sticky morning.”

“Maybe I should call in sick.”

“Maybe you should.” He waved on Sigur Ros and giggled as Bruce attacked him.

***

As the Big Day loomed closer, Bruce pressured Thor to reason with Odin, believing Odin might help Loki as a favor to the god of thunder. He enlisted Pepper’s help. She, in turn, enlisted Jane’s.

Because he and Loki had been overwhelmed with RSVP’s and no longer knew how many people would actually attend, they expanded their plans. They ordered a larger cake and more food. They reasoned the outdoor venue in Central Park could accommodate more people, but they arranged for more seating. Tony invited them to have the reception at his place, a generous offer that saved them from having to dip further into their dwindling honeymoon budget.

He and Loki were at Tony’s discussing decorations with Pepper and Tony when Thor interrupted. “I have a surprise for you, Brother,” he announced.

Loki flashed him a grim look. “I’m not pulling your finger.”

Thor blinked at him. “No, Loki. I have spoken with Father and—”

Loki pulled taut with excitement. “They’re here?!” He pushed past Thor and bolted toward the double doors and flung them open. “GODDAMNEDMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSUCKINGASSHOLEDICK!”

“Hey,” said Tony, “that’s how I’m gonna greet my children.”

A beautiful warrior woman with long dark hair sauntered past Loki, stopped in the middle of the room, and surveyed her surroundings with a hand on her hip. Behind her bounced a tall, heavy-set man dressed in armor, an athletic blond dressed in armor, and an athletic dark-haired man also dressed in armor. With them were two stout dwarves, one bald with a long ginger mustache and beard, and one balding with a long black mustache and beard.

While Loki stood apart from the Asgardians with his arms crossed over his chest, Thor made the introductions. The woman, Lady Sif, leered at Tony and presented him her hand. Tony, apparently amused, kissed it. The three male warriors were named Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun—collectively known as the Warriors Three. The dwarves were Brokk and Eitri, the Brothers Ivaldi. None of them were Loki’s children—which Bruce guessed explained Loki’s reaction. However, they had been appointed by Odin to represent Asgard at the wedding, which Bruce found to be a surprising honor.

As he offered to find them a place to stay, Tony stopped him. “They can stay here.” He grinned at Lady Sif. “Hotel Stark—where there’s always room for one more.”

Pepper glowered at him. She looked almost as unhappy as Loki.

“Watch where you put them,” warned Loki. “Soon the whole place will smell like soiled tampons and feet-cheese.”

“We’re so happy you could join us,” Bruce said quickly. “We’re thrilled to have you as our guests.”

Sif looked down her nose at him. “Who are you, little man, and why are you talking to me?”

“I’m Bruce Banner. I’m going to marry Loki.”

“You are to marry the god of lies?” asked Eitri, the black-haired dwarf. Apparently, something about that was amusing, for Volstagg laughed.

“Yes,” said Bruce. “But we don’t call him that here.”

The bald dwarf, Brokk, looked Bruce up and down. “So he refuses to stay with a woman—that I can understand. But why would he take up with the likes of this Midgardian snot-drip?”

“Excuse me?”

“If he must have a man,” said Brokk, “why not a real man, like Hogun or Fandral?”

Hogun smacked his fist into his palm. “Watch your words, dwarf. We would never fuck Loki.” Fandral shifted his weight uncomfortably and looked away.

“My brother makes a point,” said Eitri. “If Loki must take a man to wed, why not a warrior?”

Volstagg laughed. “Can you even carry a shield, little man?”

“I don’t know. Have you had your glucose tolerance tested?”

Volstagg stared at him.

Bruce tried to be friendly. “Different realms. Different worlds.” He smiled.

Brokk snarled in disgust. He pushed past Bruce to tug on Pepper’s skirt. “Where do I make my shits, woman?”

Pepper shot Bruce a revolted grimace. “Loki’s your best friend,” he reminded her.

She shook her head, snapped her fingers, and called the Asgardian delegation to attention. Only Sif, engrossed in conversation with Tony, ignored her.

A burst of light exploded a foot from Tony’s face.

Loki, fingers still arched from his spell, scowled at him. “That one doesn’t have crabs; she has sea monsters. Beware, all who enter.”

Pepper cut off Sif’s retort with directions to their quarters. She led the delegation away.

Tony grinned at Bruce. “Your wedding just turned into a renfest.”

Bruce shrugged. “It’ll be fun.” He looked at Loki, who was staring daggers at Thor, and wondered.

***

Loki lay on the couch, watching Bruce, at the other end, suck his pale trickster toes. Despite Loki’s sour mood, he couldn’t help enjoying the ticklish sensations. And Bruce’s devotion to the act was nothing short of admirable. Bruce sucked each toe with relish, as if they were made of vanilla ice cream. Loki tried to lose himself to the worshipping strokes of Bruce’s insistent tongue, but couldn’t shake his dark thoughts.

Bruce noticed. “Why does my sweet Loki look more like the god of gloom than the god of mischief?”

Loki started to tell him, but couldn’t. He felt sick to his stomach. Even after all of this time, he could still feel the pain, could still hear the laughter. “I can’t do this,” he said finally. “Everything’s ruined now.”

Bruce stopped sucking Loki’s toes and began massaging the foot he held instead. “Is my toe-sucking technique that bad?”

Loki managed a wry smile. “The only problem with it is it’s making my cock very jealous.” A shadow moved across his heart. “I want nothing more than to marry you. That’s not what I meant. It’s this wedding. It’s them.”

“Them?”

“Maybe we could go to Vegas? We could get married any hour of the day or night. We could get married by a fat man covered in glitter. We don’t need all of these people.”

“Domestic partnerships are legal in Nevada, but same-sex marriage is banned there by an amendment to the state constitution.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Some religious zealots think same-sex marriage devalues heterosexual marriage or something.”

“Las Vegas has drive-through weddings,” said Loki. “You can get married as if you were getting fries. Isn’t it rather devalued already?” He threw his head back on the couch pillow. “Everything’s ruined. We can’t even elope like normal people.”

“The Asgardian delegation? Is that what this is about?”

“Thor had no right to invite them. Fucking stupid Thor!” He pulled his feet away from Bruce and hugged his thighs close to his body.

Bruce sighed. “You know Thor’s just trying to please your father. It doesn’t really hurt anything for them to be here, does it?”

“They sewed my mouth shut.”

“Oh, Loki,” said Bruce tenderly. “My poor love. That’s an apt metaphor.” He exhaled an empathetic sigh. “That’s exactly what it feels like when you’re not allowed to speak your truth. And you weren’t allowed to live yours either.”

“They used an awl and leather twine.”

“When I was a freshman at Cal— What did you say?”

“They used an awl to punch the holes and stitched them together with leather twine. Odin made Thor hold me down. Thor didn’t want to…but he did it anyway.” He paused. In the silence, he could hear his pulse throbbing in his ears. “Tearing the stitches out later was its own agony.” 

The color had drained from Bruce’s face. Loki had never seen him so pale. The scientist said nothing, as if _his_ mouth had been sewn shut.

The only person Loki had ever allowed himself to truly talk to about this was Thor, and that had been more of an argument. Bruce’s silence moved Loki to speak freely. “Brokk never made the holes quite large enough, so for each one, the leather twine had to be forced through, the twine sawing as it was pulled taut. It felt like it took forever. I kept waiting for that point when the pain would be so intense that I would stop feeling it. It never came.” Loki smiled bitterly. “But it was their laughter that hurt most. Everyone was there. And all of them laughed.”

“I don’t understand. This was some sort of ritual?” Bruce’s voice was brittle and confused.

Loki stared at his knees. “It was a punishment. I cut Sif’s hair. It was a prank, but— Thor threatened to beat me within an inch of my life, and this time I believed him. I got the dwarves to make some new hair for her by betting them my head that they couldn’t. I outwitted the dwarves—found a loophole in our agreement. They couldn’t take my head without cutting my neck, and my neck wasn’t part of the bargain. So…I was punished for lying.” A tremor of some confused emotion he couldn’t name ran through him. He felt desperate for Bruce’s touch suddenly and crawled toward him.

Bruce reached out and caught his chin. He ran a thumb across Loki’s mouth. “The lips have more nerve endings than any other part of the body.” His face was a mask of stillness, but something wild blazed in his eyes. “The devils. The fucking devils.” He flung himself away from Loki and huddled on the other side of the couch, twitching all over.

Loki bolted upright. “No! The Hulk smashing me tonight won’t fix the past! Don’t hulk!”

“Trying,” Bruce gasped.

The anguish in Bruce’s voice aroused Loki’s sympathy. He tried a different tactic. He knelt next to Bruce and petted his quaking shoulders. “Think of something good. Central Park. Yoga. Kittens.” Fabric tore. “Kittens doing yoga!” The ball of scientist he had been touching began to explode.

“Run, Loki! Run!” Bruce snarled, the final command more growl than word.

***

Loki watched the Hulk scale Stark Tower. Tony, suited up, watched beside him. “He’s going after the Asgardians,” said Loki, his fear building as Hulk smashed through the window. “They’re all seasoned warriors. I don’t know that he can stand against all of them.”

“I’ll try to stop them all from killing each other. You keep Pepper safe.” Tony lowered his face shield, and Iron Man flew toward the chaos on the twelfth floor.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Bruce woke in a crouch. He was entirely nude. Cold slate tiles paved the floor beneath his bare feet. Tinted plate glass from the wall of broken window littered much of the floor. Furniture lay scattered about the room. The large room looked like— Stark Tower?

“I believe he’s finished rampaging now,” said JARVIS.

Tony strode toward him carrying a plush bathrobe and wearing an amused expression. “Catch, Snow White,” he said, launching the bathrobe at Bruce.

Bruce caught it and slipped it on. “Loki made some underwear for me that grows and shrinks as I turn. I don’t know what happened to it.”

“I don’t know. Last time I saw it, it was stuffed in Brokk’s mouth.”

“The Hulk attacked the dwarves?”

Tony scrubbed his chin. “I would have been happy to throw you a bachelor party.”

An uneasiness came over Bruce. “Have you seen Loki?”

“He’s with Pepper. JARVIS, tell Pepper to let Loki know Bruce is back.”

“What happened?” Bruce asked finally, tired of Tony’s coyness. “I can’t remember any of it.”

“Let’s see, you stormed the tower and attacked my guests—”

“He.”

“Yeah, right. _He_ ripped the electrical cords off my lamps and tied the dwarves heel to heel, and then he turned them into anal beads.”

“Fuck.”

Tony grinned. “Yeah. The Warriors Three tried to help. That didn’t go well. That woman attacked Hulk with an axe of some sort. He used her to scrub the toilets.” He chuckled. “Thor got involved, and you tried to introduce him to Plato’s cave, but I guess you didn’t have any more room up there because of the dwarves and that fat warrior—”

“He.” Bruce buried his face in his hand. “ _He_.”

“ _He_ almost got hammered, but I stopped that.” He grinned hugely. “You can owe me.” He looked around the room. “Don’t worry about the damage. What’s a few hundred thousand dollars between friends?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Tony shrugged. “I’ve never seen dwarf porn that good. And I’ve seen a lot of good dwarf porn.”

“Were there any casualties?”

“No. A lot of humiliation. Some broken bones. A few collapsed lungs. He’s pretty rough with his toys, but everyone’s okay.”

“I wish he had squeezed those dwarves into diamonds.” A ripple of anger ran beneath Bruce’s skin.

Tony scowled in confusion. “Why are you so down on the dwarves?”

“They sewed Loki’s mouth shut.” He told Tony the disgusting tale.

Although Tony’s face had evinced horror as Bruce related the events, when Bruce was finished, Tony said, “That was massively fucked up, but you know how he can be.”

The horror of Loki’s tale overcame Bruce anew. “NO! Nothing he did could ever warrant that!”

“You need to lock that fucking growl back in its box.” Tony’s expression was deathly serious. “I took your side when I didn’t know any of it. But it’s done now. It’s over.”

“Loki didn’t deserve that.”

“I never said he did.”

“That’s like saying prisoners deserve to be tortured or people deserve to be hit just for saying something. I can’t accept that. I won’t accept that.” Bruce’s rage had abated, leaving him only anguish and revulsion. The stress of turning made him light-headed. He couldn’t look at Tony anymore. He stared out the missing wall of glass and tried to steady his breath. “He didn’t deserve it.”

“You should dig those bluebirds out of your ears, Snow White.”

Arms grabbed Bruce from behind. He recognized the touch immediately and twisted to bury his face in Loki’s neck. Loki held him close, covering him with kisses and rubbing him up and down from shoulders to ass. “I grew up in a palace, but you are the noblest person I’ve ever known,” said Loki, voice and eyes brimming with love. “You’re my personal hero.”

Tony cleared his throat. “Your noble hero just had half your wedding guests up his butt.”

“Even better,” Loki said, giving Bruce an extra hard squeeze.

***

Loki kissed Bruce under the hot spray of the shower. He had kissed his favorite scientist almost the entire way home. Sometimes, Bruce’s turnings fatigued him and, once he was able to get somewhere safe, he would withdraw and sleep. This must have been a difficult turn—Bruce looked tired, but Loki’s attentions kept him from sleeping. As they kissed, Loki thought Bruce almost seemed drugged. His movements were as deliberate and slow as the dark ambient music by Northaunt echoing off the bathroom tiles. Because Loki had grown accustomed to letting Bruce lead the action, they seemed to kiss in slow motion.

Loki savored every minute. He exhilarated in the warm press of their wet bodies. Steam, fragrant with lavender, wrapped his skin in a humid cloak as he enjoyed the clean warmth of Bruce’s mouth. Their erections sought each other beneath the torrent of hot water, but there was nothing hurried in their movements, nothing frantic, nothing rushed. The world belonged entirely to them, to their love, to this instant.

“I wish I could live here the rest of my life,” Loki told Bruce softly.

“Me too.” Bruce squeezed him a little closer. “But that would waste a lot of water. Speaking of which….” He disentangled himself from Loki.

Loki pulled him back. “Not yet,” he whispered. “Not just yet.” He cast a spell to slow the water’s fall so that each drop shivered in a rolling mass, rebounding leisurely off the tiles like something out of an hallucination.

Bruce watched the water with wide eyes. Then he stroked Loki’s face, his gaze fastened on Loki’s. “You’re the most fantastic creature.”

Loki grinned, quite pleased with the intelligence of Bruce’s assessment. But nothing in Bruce’s face mirrored Loki’s good humor. He frowned at his scientist, concerned. “What?”

“I fucked Tony.”

Loki drew up. “Last night?”

“No. It was a long time ago. We were in college. We met one summer, became friends….” He paused as if waiting for Loki to say something. Water droplets broke around them. “It was only once—it should never have happened, but he was experimenting and—between youth and Jägermeister— There were...a few other...incidents, but we knew we worked best as friends. Later, when I had to go into hiding, we swore if our paths ever crossed again to act as if we’d never met.” He heaved a breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I swear—there’s nothing but friendship between us.”

Loki smiled. “I knew about that.”

“How?”

“I’m a great sorcerer possessing arcane knowledge—” He sighed. “Pepper after a few cosmos. It’s fine.”

Bruce frowned, perplexed. “You were so upset about Madison.”

“Madison has a huge thumping crush on you.” He slid a finger down the center of Bruce’s chest. “And who could blame him. But Tony isn’t gay. And he loves Pepper, even if he doesn’t show it well most of the time.” He couldn’t help but smile at his befuddled Bruce. “Besides, you’re hopelessly in love with me. Perhaps I’m becoming more comfortable with that.”

Instead of looking pleased, as Loki expected, Bruce only stared at him in drenched misery.

Loki took an uneasy breath. “The beam…that was Madison, right?”

“Yes. The New Year’s Eve before you came to live with me. Loki, I wasn’t— I thought you would enjoy the position. What we did—everything we do—it’s different.”

Loki stared at Bruce through the steam. There was probably nothing Bruce could conceive of that Loki hadn’t tried at least once during his many years of sexual escapades, but the idea that their experiences weren’t unique stung him. And there was one thing…. He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t help it. “Did you and Madison…. Did you ever get his nose?”

Bruce blinked away tears. “No. I’m only silly when I’m happy, and I’ve only been happy with you.”

Loki stroked Bruce’s face and teared up himself. “I want to make you the silliest scientist ever.” He held Bruce against him and felt overwhelmed by love.

“Loki,” Bruce said, his voice low and hushed beneath the sounds of falling water, “there are other things I haven’t told you about my past.”

“Do any of them change the way you feel about me?”

“No, but—”

Loki silenced him with a small, tender kiss. “Then they don’t matter.”

Bruce stroked a sodden rope of hair off Loki’s face. “You’re a different flavor every day, aren’t you? My beautiful trickster god…confounding, perfect,” he murmured.

A wave of emotion and desire washed aside Loki’s reply. He pressed his body against Bruce’s and turned his head to catch one of Bruce’s wet fingers between his lips.

A shadow crossed Bruce’s face. He traced Loki’s lower lip with his thumb. “How could they—” His voice caught as new tears filled his eyes.

Loki kissed both of Bruce’s eyes and cradled his head. “It’s all right now. Everything’s all right.”

And he meant every word. Not because the Hulk had shamed the dwarves, but because he knew, with every ecstatic fiber of his being, that the arms around him loved him. He had thought he had known he was loved for some time, but just when he thought he had comprehended the breadth of it, he found it again as if anew—a vast horizon of love sparkling like the shore of some new world—with his name on it.

Bruce drew a ragged breath and hugged him tighter. Loki repeated his name softly, massaging his shoulders and back. “Are you okay? You had a bad turn?”

“They’re all bad.” The frankness of his tone surprised Loki.

“I didn’t know,” Loki whispered, pulling back to look at him.

Bruce stared at him strangely, almost as if in a trance. “Every time he takes over, it’s like being buried alive. Everything I try to be—everything I feel I am—all of it’s crushed beneath toxic green rage until there’s nothing recognizable left. Even when I’m conscious of what he’s doing, I’m a ghost haunting some zombie I’ve left behind—insubstantial, the shadow of a mushroom cloud. It’s like dying over and over again.”

Loki stared into Bruce’s face. He had never noticed how much pain was in it. It rested in the lines etching his skin, reclined in the shadows of his eyes, lurked beneath the patient veneer Loki loved so well. His silver tongue turned to dust. Words failed him.

Bruce continued, his voice soft. “He’s not a talent, nor a power; he’s a curse.”

Loki ran his fingers through Bruce’s sodden hair. “It’s a useful curse.”

Bruce brought Loki’s wet hands to his mouth and kissed them. “Right. You’re right. It’s okay. He does good these days—like punishing rotten dwarves.” He grinned, transformed. “I wish I had been around for some of that. I’d have liked to have seen the looks on their faces. Or Sif in the toilet.” He mimed cleaning a toilet bowl with a brush.

Loki copied him, beaming. “That must be how she got her name—her hair brushing the sides. Sif, sif. Sif, sif.”

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you smile,” Bruce said, his voice husky. As he stroked Loki’s sides, his thick cock pulsed against Loki’s thigh.

“I’m always beautiful.” Loki crushed against him and grinned playfully, but he promised himself two things. One, he would never again try to antagonize Bruce into turning. And two, he would prepare some kind of re-entry kit for Bruce on their missions and administer a Hulk aftercare to him to ease him through the transition. The thought filled him with something like sunlight. He glowed with it as the water fell, as he dropped beneath the wobbling droplets to suck Bruce’s cock deep into his mouth.

***

Still a bit damp and sparkling with post-coital bliss, Loki slithered into his black satin robe and watched Bruce slip on his green bamboo bathrobe. He followed his scientist into the living area. Bruce stretched, arching backward. “What would you like me to fix for dinner?”

“No,” said Loki. “I’m making dinner.” He frowned at Bruce’s amazed expression. “I am a powerful sorcerer genius. I believe I’m capable of handling dinner.” He began exploring the refrigerator and pantry. How did Bruce make anything with these random components? It was as if a lunatic had done their grocery shopping. Cumin, anise, celery, garbanzo bean flour…. What the fuck?

He was so engrossed in trying to figure out what to cook, that he jumped a little when the doorbell rang. He started to let Bruce answer it alone, but curiosity lured him from the kitchen. He stood behind his scientist as Bruce threw open the door.

Bruce cried out in surprise. A stunning green-skinned woman stood in the doorway. “Watch out! She’s hulked!” cried Loki. He grabbed Bruce by a shoulder and hurled him backward.


	10. Chapter 10

Loki multiplied and called Jotun blue flames into his hands. He was much closer to She-Hulk than he would have liked, but he needed to be between her and Bruce.

A normal, cute but rather unassuming Midgardian woman took She-Hulk’s place. “I’m Jen,” she said and frowned into the apartment. “Bruce? Are you okay?”

Bruce pounced up from behind Loki and his doppelgangers and hugged her fiercely. “It’s so good to see you! We weren’t expecting you ‘til tomorrow.”

“And I guess you weren’t expecting She-Hulk at all.” She rolled her luggage inside. Loki extinguished his flames and banished his doubles.

As they left the entry way for the living area, Bruce told Loki, “She isn’t like me. She’s still herself when she turns.”

Jen smiled. “I’m more myself.”

Loki smoothed his hair back self-consciously. “I see. No one saw fit to inform me of this.”

Jen’s gaze rested on him. “So you’re Loki. You’re even more attractive than your pictures.”

Loki hugged her. “And you have your cousin’s exquisite taste.” He added as they parted, “In men, anyway. His is rather lackluster elsewhere.” He patted Bruce’s shoulder. “But I’m helping him, and he learns quickly.”

Jen smirked. “Yeah, I love what you’ve done with the apartment. It’s so different than the last time I was here—more colorful. I guess this is eclectic, right? A blend of modern Asian, Moroccan, and—” She plucked the chicken salt shaker from the breakfast bar. “French provincial?”

“Umm…eclectic,” said Loki, “that’s right.”

Bruce wrapped an arm about Loki’s waist. “Loki has a dramatic flare.” Loki grinned at the pride in his voice.

“I caught an early flight because I thought I would surprise you—”

“Mission accomplished,” Loki said.

“Thank you,” said Jen, “and take you guys out to dinner. Sound fun?”

“Oh,” said Bruce. “You don’t need to do that. Loki was just about to coo—”

“Sound’s perfect!” said Loki. “Give me five minutes to get dressed.”

“I should dress too,” said Bruce.

“He’ll only need two,” Loki told Jen. “He just wanders into the closet and puts on whatever falls.”

Bruce snorted in amusement. “You have it easy. Your entire wardrobe is either black or green.”

Loki felt he needed to defend this to Jen. “Black is a protective color for sorcerers. It’s the color of mystery and subtlety. And green—” he smiled at Jen, then grounded a rush of love and excitement in Bruce’s dark eyes “green is just so fucking sexy.”

***

At the small Vietnamese restaurant, they enjoyed several rounds of drinks as they waited for their noodle dishes. Although Loki was surprised that more people weren’t doing double takes because they had a jade Amazon at their table, he thought the evening was going well. She-Hulk—Jen—whatever seemed as easy to be around as Bruce. She was friendly and likable; moreover, it was obvious that she adored Bruce, and that fact alone raised her high in Loki’s esteem. So Loki relaxed…maybe a bit too much.

When Bruce excused himself to use the restroom, Loki brushed his thigh as he stood and said, “Save some for me.”

She-Hulk giggled. Bruce turned beet-red. “Oh,” Loki said to She-Hulk. “I’m sorry. That’s an inside joke. It’s this thing we say to each other because sometimes we like to play with urine—”

“LOKI!”

He scowled at Bruce. “What?”

“That’s my cousin. My sweet little female cousin.”

Loki frowned at She-Hulk, who seemed to be trying to hold her mouth shut. Her eyes sparkled with laughter. Loki cocked an eyebrow at Bruce. “I fail to see the problem with that. In Asgard, you two could be married. Then you’d be sharing urine yourselves—and all kinds of other things too.”

“Please,” said Bruce in a low whisper, “please stop saying urine.”

Loki couldn’t look at Bruce’s embarrassed face anymore. He played with his big plastic chopsticks. “Very well. Go pee. I’ll take care of your hulking little female cousin.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce told She-Hulk.

“Don’t be.” She smiled. “Go, we’ll be fine.”

Bruce left, She-Hulk sipped her merlot, and Loki sulked over his plum wine, pretending to study the way it clung to the glass in sticky-sweet sheets. “It’s okay, Loki,” said She-Hulk. “I think it’s great that you two have an adventurous sex life. Whatever you’re into is your business, and I support it.”

He met her gaze and was impressed by its kindness.

“He’s protective of me. That’s all.” She smirked. “And somehow he imagines I’m sweet and chaste. Poor thing.”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass him. And I wasn’t trying to be provocative. It’s just our life, and I have trouble sometimes with—” He frowned into his glass. “Midgard. People.” He shrugged. “Living. He tries to help me but….”

“You’re good for him,” said She-Hulk. “I’ve never seen him this relaxed, this happy. Even before the gamma radiation accident, he was always kind of closed off. It’s wonderful seeing him like this. I never thought he had it in him.” She smiled. “It’s like when you polish something you’ve only seen tarnished and it shines.”

Loki grinned. “He does love me, doesn’t he?”

“I’ve seen him in love before. I’ve never seen him quite like this. You must be every bit as special as he says you are. Maybe even more.”

He felt choked up as Bruce joined them. He chased the thickness in his throat with a large swallow of wine and another of water. Bruce rubbed his shoulder affectionately as She-Hulk began to talk about legal precedents and marriage equality. Their food arrived, and as they talked and ate, Loki realized family was not about blood or how much time people spent together, but about acceptance and love.

***

Two days later, the rehearsal went beautifully. Bruce felt calmer than he thought was normal. He didn’t particularly like being the center of attention, and he only liked large crowds if he was getting lost in one. He thought he should have been worried that something might trigger the Hulk. Instead, he welcomed every moment with a feeling of clarity.

So when the Asgardians tramped through the grass toward him, he faced them with a self-assured calm. Loki slithered from his embrace like a startled snake, frowning at the delegation with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck do they want?”

Bruce stood perfectly still. His muscles tensed. The Hulk moved through him like a chill. Although Bruce supported the peace Tony had brokered between them, if the Asgardians wanted violence his alter-ego would be only too happy to give it to them.

The whole thing seemed odd. There was something almost formal about their movements. The strange procession stopped suddenly. Eitri, eyes wide, said, “He has two of them!”

“Got your back,” She-Hulk whispered, a green hand on Loki’s shoulder.

Brokk knelt before Bruce, but he didn’t quite make eye-contact with him; none of them would. “We have come to honor the warrior brave enough to wed the god of evil.”

Loki bobbed forward. “What the bloody-assed fuck?”

“He’s not the god of evil,” said Bruce evenly. “He’s the god of mischief.” As an aside, he whispered in Loki’s ear, “And rim jobs.” Loki rewarded him with a bright-eyed smile.

Fandral and Hogun stepped apart to allow Volstagg to present a shining axe to Bruce. Bruce accepted the gift warily. It was even heavier than it looked. It was, however, beautifully crafted, and, although he had no idea what he would do with a big battle axe, he kind of liked it. “This is a fine axe,” he said. “Thank you.” In response, the Asgardians stepped back and gave him some sort of salute that reminded him vaguely of Nazis and made him very uncomfortable. Then, they walked away, trooping toward Thor and Jane standing in the distance beneath the trees with Pepper and Tony.

She-Hulk took the axe, and Bruce turned to Loki, grinning. Loki, however, crossed his arms over his chest with a disgusted sigh. “It looks like you did in a few days what I couldn’t in a few millennia—win their respect.”

“Oh, Loki.” Bruce smoothed a hand down his trickster’s back.

“It’s always brute strength with these people. That’s the only thing they admire. The only thing they understand. My intellect—my creativity—my guile—my magic—my dashing good looks—meaningless!”

“Not to me,” said Bruce. “I would much rather have your power than mine. And if I had to choose one sight to see for the rest of my life, it would be you.” Loki’s eyes softened. Bruce smoothed an angry sorcerer hair behind his ear. “You’re perfect. They’re idiots if they can’t see that.”

Loki stared at the ground. “You’re right.” He sighed. “They’re idiots. But…that is a nice axe.” A slight smile began to break on his face. “And I’m marrying a warrior. Lucky me.”

“I’m the lucky one. I get to marry you.”

“This is a lovely piece,” said She-Hulk, turning the axe so it caught the sunlight. “Are you going to display it in the living room—or maybe your office?”

Loki winced at the gleaming metal. Bruce saw it despite the cultivated smile with which Loki tried to mask it. Bruce took Loki’s hand. “Maybe it would look good in your office,” he said to She-Hulk. “Would you like it?”

“I can’t take this. They gave it to you.”

“And it’s beautiful, but our apartment is our sanctuary.” He brushed his thumb over the soft bridge between the knuckles of Loki’s thumb and index finger. “I don’t want any reminders of those people in our home.” He would have liked to have kept the axe, but parting with it was well worth the amazed gratitude in Loki’s eyes.

“You don’t have to do that,” said Loki in a quiet voice.

“Of course I do; I love you.”

Loki hugged him. “I love you more,” he rasped. “And more and more and more.” He trembled with emotion.

Bruce caught Loki’s head in his hands and kissed him fervently. Loki’s welcoming tongue lured him deep. He tightened his fist around a handful of Loki’s hair. Loki hugged him, almost a bit too tightly, back. As everything began to fall away, like it always did when he and Loki kissed, he heard his cousin sigh. “I wonder how I’m going to get this through airport security….”

***

As they waited to be seated at the restaurant where they had decided to meet after the rehearsal, Bruce took Thor aside. Thor was still bristling from their last confrontation. He glowered at Bruce’s hand on his arm. Bruce removed it but stayed his ground. He had no interest in playing some stupid dominance game with his future brother-in-law, but he wasn’t going to back down, either. Thor puffed out his chest. “Maybe your beast has cowed my comrades, but I am a prince of Asgard. You will take care how you treat me.”

Bruce glared up at him. “So when your pride’s been wounded you’re a prince of Asgard? Good. Then you can make certain Loki’s children attend this wedding.”

“I told you. I tried, but the All-Father—”

“Try harder.”

Thor leaned over him. “You are a stubborn, annoying little man.”

“Thank you. I want Loki’s children at this wedding. Stop stepping on your dick and make it happen.”

“How dare you ask me for anything! You owe me—”

“Nothing. I’ve already apologized. You owe Loki a fuck-load more than that.” He watched as a heavy breath lifted the big man’s mustache slightly. “You know you do,” said Bruce, quieter. “You’re a fair-minded man, Thor. You know he always got the worst of it. You know that wasn’t right. He wants to see his children. That’s not an evil wish. Please. Try harder.”

Thor remained silent for a few seconds. Then he said, “You haven’t seen any pictures of Loki’s children, have you?”

“No.”

“They’re monstrous creatures.”

“My father thought I was a monster. We should get along just fine.” With a flash of inspiration, he smiled up at Thor. “That’s it! Tell Odin you didn’t realize how much he supported Loki’s marriage; how he’s so wise to not let Loki’s children attend, because they would ruin everything and scare his silly Midgardian away.”

“That might actually work,” said Jane walking up, grinning. She gave her huge Norse god a hug. “You can do that, right, Pooh?”

Thor grunted and gave Bruce a rather sheepish look. As they walked back to the others, Bruce sidled against Jane. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice.

“It’s a good cause,” said Jane. “Besides, whether astro or nuclear, physicists should stick together.”


	11. Chapter 11

Loki felt aglow with happiness. He found Bruce and She-Hulk sipping coffee on the futon in Bruce’s office. “—she’s so busy with that school. She loves those kids. But I don’t know how we can get serious if we never get to see each other,” She-Hulk said.

Loki waited for her to finish her thought before barging into the room. He could barely contain himself. He waved the note card in Bruce’s face. “She RSVP’d! See? She’s coming!”

“Who?” said She-Hulk, sitting up with enthusiasm.

“My mother! That is, my adoptive—my—Frig—my mother!” He flopped on the futon next to Bruce, nearly spilling his scientist’s coffee. “My mother’s coming!”

She-Hulk seemed delighted. “That’s great!”

“She’s going to love you,” Loki told Bruce. “I know she’s going to love you.”

Bruce smiled at him. “I’m excited to meet her.” He planted a light kiss on Loki’s lips. “And I’m so glad you’re happy.”

Loki sighed with relief and joy. He hadn’t let himself realize how much he wanted Frigga there until now. He ruffled Bruce’s hair. “To celebrate, will you make French toast with Daenerys’ eggs and zucchini bread?”

Bruce laughed and nuzzled Loki’s shoulder. “Of course.”

“She’s a hearth goddess,” Loki told She-Hulk. “So it is an appropriate way to celebrate.”

“I’ll help,” said She-Hulk.

“I’ll watch,” said Loki.

***

Bruce stared at the sea of faces in dismay. He had congratulated himself at the rehearsal for not being nervous. But the rehearsal had consisted primarily of him, Loki, and their closest friends—the sort of wedding he would have liked if he were being honest. At the rehearsal, even the Asgardians, although there, hadn’t actually watched. They had been too busy touring the park.

But this wasn’t a small, intimate wedding. This was a wedding extravaganza. It was a fucking carnival. Not only were most of the chairs filled, but there were people on blankets with kids and dogs and picnic lunches. Someone had brought a tiger. There were people dressed as Avengers and, for reasons unfathomable, vampires, stormtroopers, and zombies. There were vendors on the periphery selling alcohol, falafels, and ice cream. There were people selling balloons and painting faces. Avengers merchandise and bubbles were everywhere. There were journalists, bloggers, camera crews.

The security guarding the perimeter was almost as strange as the revelers. Although Loki was an Avenger now, he was still resented and despised by many for his prior villainy. Because of this, Nick had offered to have a few S.H.I.E.L.D. teams on hand to ensure everyone’s safety and keep the various anti-gay and anti-Loki groups protesting the wedding at bay. However, the agents were not alone.

Not only had the notion of the first gay Avengers wedding captured the attention of many gay activists, Loki’s vocal and enthusiastic support of gay rights had endeared him to many in the gay community. When Steve had tweeted that he worried about the safety of the event, groups around the country came to offer their support. (Steve wasn’t gay, but he was quite popular in certain circles.)

So, leather daddies from Dallas on motorcycles, brawny lesbian boxers from New Orleans, tattooed bouncers from Chicago, and many others came to help with crowd control. Most came from states where same-sex marriage was still illegal. Bruce was as humbled by their support as he was overwhelmed by it. In a way, all of this was wonderful, but it was all so much more than what he had wanted or imagined. But he knew Loki would love it.

As he tried to collect his thoughts, he noticed a modern dance troop gliding about in green leotards on one side of the sitting area while jugglers and acrobats performed around them. In the midst of them, doing something bizarre with fans that might have been kabuki was—no—it couldn’t be….

Loki wafted up from behind and gripped his shoulder. “Ah, good,” he said, following Bruce’s gaze. “Madison and his friends made it after all.”

Bruce looked at Loki askance. “You invited Madison and his theater buddies?”

“I did.” Loki’s arrogant little chin had risen at least another haughty inch since donning his lovely black tuxedo. “I can be quite magnanimous.”

Bruce eyed Loki suspiciously. “I’m not sure that’s the right word.”

Loki didn’t seem to notice. He smoothed Bruce’s eyebrows with a cool finger and squinted in Bruce’s face. “You’re nervous?”

Bruce laughed. “I’m not a god. I don’t like this much attention.”

Loki looked at him with surprising sympathy. “But you love me,” he said softly, his face so close the words fell as breaths against Bruce’s skin.

“I do,” Bruce whispered, meaning it with every cell of his body.

Loki gave his ass cheek a playful squeeze. “See? You’ll do fine!” Loki shushed him with a kiss before he could protest. When they parted, he said, “Pretend you’re at some green summit talking about the dangers of fracking.” He frowned suddenly and plucked the white pocket square from Bruce’s gray suit. He used Bruce’s shoulder as a table, pressing it with his long fingers and a very intense expression. Apparently, the art of pocket square folding was a serious business.

“I suppose it’s okay you invited Madison. It’s a little weird having people I slept with here, but so do you.”

Loki looked up from his folding with alarm. “What do you mean?”

“You and Fandral, right?”

“Yes,” said Loki. “And Hogun and Volstagg. Sif—as Thor. Thor—as Sif. Thor—as Thor—he was quite drunk.”

“Thor??? Wasn’t this before you knew you were adopted?”

Loki licked his lips. “Don’t be judgey, Bruce.” His brow knitted as he pressed the square. “And the Ivaldi Brothers—at the same time.”

“As a woman?”

“No. Of course not.” He inserted the pocket square and settled it just so. “As a sheep.”

“There you are,” said Pepper, leading Daenerys on a black and green harness. The strawberry blonde looked striking in the elegant dress that both she and Loki had told Bruce several times was not green, but absinthe. “We’re almost ready to start.”

Loki stared at the empty seat on the front row beside Sif. “No,” he said. “We can’t start yet. Not everyone is here.”

Bruce felt sick. Not only were Loki’s children not going to be at the wedding, it seemed his mother wouldn’t be either. “Another fifteen minutes,” Bruce told Pepper.

After forty minutes, Loki began to wilt. His eyes took on a soft, glassy appearance Bruce associated with his sorcerer’s stress stomachaches. He stared forlornly at the empty seat after they asked Pepper to let everyone know that they were delaying a little longer. “She’s not coming,” he said quietly to Bruce.

“We’ll give her a few more minutes,” said Bruce. Poor Loki. He slid a hand down Loki’s side. “You look so sexy in that tux. You’re the very picture of elegance.”

Loki volunteered a slight smile. “It does look good on me, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “I think you were wise to go with a suit, though. It’s more you somehow. And I love you in charcoal gray.” He kept his back to the seats as they talked. “I love you in anything, even in those hideous colors that do nothing for your skin—I love you.” He ground a little gasp between his teeth.

“You’re okay,” Bruce soothed, moving the hand Loki had clasped over his stomach. He rubbed gently as Loki pushed closer, seeming to want to impale himself on Bruce’s hand. “Can you use your magic to heal yourself?”

“I don’t know that this is the sort of hurt my powers can heal.”

“Poor sweet Loki.”

“I love you so, so much,” said Loki, voice rough with emotion.

Still rubbing, Bruce held him. “I know, and I love you. Try to remember that. Try to forget the rest. Okay? This is for us.”

“This was for me,” Loki said raggedly, his head hanging over Bruce’s shoulder. “This was stupid. You never wanted this.”

“That’s not true. I wanted to tell the world how much I love you. And I wanted to see you in that sexy tux.”

Loki grunted his approval and leaned against Bruce. But after a few minutes, he said in a small, choked voice, “I can’t do this.”

Bruce held Loki closer. Canceling the wedding now would piss off a lot of people. The two of them would be out a lot of money. It would be a disaster. “Okay.”

Loki pulled back with a sniffle. “Okay?”

Bruce hugged him. “I don’t want to do this if you’re feeling bad.” Loki moaned gratefully and relaxed in his arms. “However,” said Bruce, “every time you hurt yourself because they don’t love you enough, you let them win.”

Loki said nothing.

Bruce continued. “Your mother isn’t here, but your friends are. And so am I. We love you. Some of those weirdos out there probably do too. Do you think the people who don’t love you enough are more important than the people who do?”

Loki stared into his eyes. “No,” he said softly. “Of course not.” He kissed Bruce gently, his tongue gliding like a serpent into Bruce’s mouth. They kissed until Bruce felt dizzy, and then Loki said, “I’m going to marry you today, Bruce Banner, and nothing is going to stop me.” His resolve quavered a little. “But we can wait a little longer, right? My stomach does hurt, and Frigga still might show.”

Bruce kissed beneath Loki’s ear and rubbed his stomach. “We’ll take as long as you need.”

  



	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Look for Stan Lee in this chapter.

As the minutes dragged by, Loki began to give up on the idea that Frigga would come to the wedding. “Why would she do this to me?” Loki asked Bruce in a small voice. 

Bruce nuzzled Loki’s neck and tried to stay present and calm. “It probably wasn’t on purpose, baby. Maybe Odin forbade it. You said he was being a dick.”

“She RSVP’d,” Loki whispered sadly, sounding, for all his age, height and powers, like a bewildered child.

Bruce didn’t know what else to say, so he concentrated on rubbing Loki’s stomach and holding him, hoping to ease the physical symptoms of his grief if nothing else. He was still rubbing Loki gently when Pepper and She-Hulk interrupted them. “Is something wrong with Loki?” asked Pepper.

“It’s nothing,” said Loki. “My stomach hurts. Bruce was helping.”

She-Hulk lifted the hem of her tuxedo dress and removed a flask from a garter around her thigh. She handed it to Loki. “Brandy?”

Loki took it with a sneer at Bruce. “I don’t ever want to hear you whine about how your only family is your cousin. I would trade my entire family—living and dead—for one of her.”

She-Hulk smirked. “I’m yours now,” she said to Loki. “And so—” Her brows lifted as Loki tilted the flask high, draining it. “—apparently is that brandy. Aww…poor Loki.”

Bruce guided Loki to a chair while the women fussed over him. He tapped She-Hulk’s shoulder. “I need to take care of something. Keep things quiet until I get back.” As he turned, he nearly ran into Tony.

“When are we starting this thing, St. Nick?”

Bruce stared at him, amused and aghast all at once. He had put on a few ‘domestic bliss’ pounds since Loki moved in—morning fucks too often supplanted morning runs, but he hadn’t thought it was enough to notice. “You know it’s fucked up to tease a gay man about his weight—especially on his wedding day.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fuck that, Bruce. You know—Santa’s workshop, the dwarves.”

“Those are elves,” said Bruce.

“See!” said Loki. “The imprecision in his attempts at humor is not funny. It’s—”

“Put a stocking it in it, Games.” He turned to Bruce. “When the fuck are we starting this thing?”

“Can’t you see Loki’s not feeling well?” said Pepper.

“Are we calling it off?” Tony asked Bruce.

“No,” said Loki.

“He does look sort of peaked,” said Tony

“He has a tummy-ache,” said Pepper.

Loki winced, but Bruce suspected it was more from the infantilism than the pain—Loki was usually too proud to let anyone but Bruce see him vulnerable. “I’m fine. We can start now.”

She-Hulk held him in his seat. “Rest for a moment. You don’t need to push yourself.”

Steve, followed by Clint and Natasha, joined the party. “What’s going on?” Steve asked.

“Loki’s not feeling well,” said Bruce.

“The crowd’s getting restless,” Clint said, frowning a little.

“You’re kidding! Is that Daenerys?!” Steve scooped up the fluffy chicken and started clucking at her in an unusually high voice.

Natasha leaned in to pet the chicken’s fuzzy feet. “Look—she has leg warmers. Yes, you do chicky-chick. Yes, you do.”

“Uh, the crowd?” said Clint.

“They’ll have to wait,” said Bruce. “We’ll start soon.” He turned to Tony. “Help me with something?” Tony agreed and followed him out into the field of people. As they walked, Bruce explained. “Loki had a seat reserved for his mother next to Sif. They like each other apparently. Anyway, I don’t think his mother’s going to make it, and I don’t want him looking at that empty spot while we’re getting married.”

“Okay,” said Tony. “Let’s put someone in it.” He surveyed the crowd. “Hey, what about Einstein over there? Was he one of your professors?”

“No. He looks kind of familiar, but I don’t know who that is.” Bruce shrugged. “I guess he’ll do.”

He and Tony apprehended the gray-haired gentleman. “Look alive, Old Spice,” said Tony, taking the man’s arm, “you’ve been upgraded from the cheap seats.”

Bruce translated, “Sir, we’d like you to move up front.” They escorted the man to the front row. Bruce gave the Asgardian delegation a stern look and was rewarded with submissive head bows. Sif, however, grimaced at the gray-haired man.

“Look, Scrubbing Bubbles,” said Tony, “we found you a date.”

“You will treat him with respect,” Bruce said, glaring at her. He mimed cleaning a toilet. “Sif sif."

Tony mimicked him happily, although Bruce thought he must have only seen the action on commercials—he doubted Tony had ever scrubbed a toilet in his life. “Sif sif.”

“Dildos?!” said the old man, leering at Sif like he had just won the lottery.

A scream on the edge of the crowd drew their attention. “It’s okay,” Thor told the crowd as he walked up the green-carpeted aisle. “They’re family.”

Behind Thor marched a beautiful girl wearing an elaborate headdress, a curve-hugging chartreuse gown, and way too much eyeliner. Alongside her an eight-legged black steed trotted in a way that he looked as if he were floating above the ground. At the girl’s other hip walked a giant wolf. Like the horse, he had a garland of wild flowers around his neck. They were followed by a procession of five great trolls. All five wore flowers in their hair.

Loki flew past Bruce and met his children halfway. He hugged the horse first. Feeling a little dazed, Bruce walked up to meet Loki’s children. Loki introduced the horse as Sleipnir, the wolf as Fenrir, and the girl as Hela. The trolls were Fee, Fie, Fo, Fum, and Francis. “Their mother named them,” Loki whispered to Bruce aside his hand.

Hela looked Bruce up and down. “How old are you?” she asked, her bright eyes narrowing within her gobs of eyeliner.

Bruce hedged, embarrassed. “Forty—” He cleared his throat. “—something.”

Hela rolled her eyes and sniffed at Loki. “Cradle rob much, Fädir?”

Loki ignored her. “Where’s Jörmungandir?”

“He couldn’t make it. New job. New girlfriend. You know how it goes.”

While Loki and Hela discussed what route they had taken to get there, Bruce squeezed Thor’s shoulder. “You’re a good brother and a good best man.”

“Nice of one of you to notice.”

“Give him time,” Bruce told him. “He’ll get there eventually.” He patted Thor’s back. “I need to clear a place for Loki’s children to sit.” Thor helped him. Jane did too. Wide-eyed, Darcy watched Hela slink into the seat next to her. 

Hela smirked at the girl. “You look corruptible.”

Darcy stared, entranced. “You smell like cinnamon rolls.”

Once his children had been settled, Loki grinned at Bruce and grabbed him. “Let’s get married!” he cried. Cheers went up around them.

***

Bruce stood on the stage next to Tony and She-Hulk and tried to pretend he wasn’t nervous. Olivia Magicwolf, the Wiccan priestess they had chosen to officiate the wedding, brushed close and took his hand. Her hand was frail and cool, the skin thin and papery with age, but her grip was sure. He gave her a slightly embarrassed smile, which she returned with confidence. When she released his hand, he felt a little better.

The priestess wore a rainbow-striped stole over her black robe, and a gold circlet adorned with a crescent moon held her long argent hair away from her face. Near the stage, her wife, in a wheelchair, blew them a kiss.

Suddenly, the music changed, and Loki paraded down the aisle with Daenerys in tow. Pepper and Thor followed, side by side. Bruce grinned and felt possessed of a deep and easy serenity.

As Loki sauntered past Brokk, who sat on the aisle beside Eitri, he uttered a rather loud and eerily realistic, “Baaaaaa.”

Tony leaned into Bruce’s shoulder. “What the fuck was that?”

“That,” said Bruce, “was mischief.”

After much prancing, Loki reached the stage, did a runway pivot, and graced the attendees with his awesomeness, hand on hip. With a flourish, he proclaimed loudly, “Today, I get married!” As applause rippled through the crowd, he and Daenerys waited for Pepper and Thor.

“Does he think this is all about him?” Tony asked.

Bruce smiled. “He thinks everything’s all about him.”

“And you still want to do this?”

“With my entire being.”

“Damn. I think my ears just puked.”

Once Loki and his entourage had ascended the stage, Bruce lost himself in Loki’s eyes. He tried to stay in the moment, but everything kept blurring. As if in a dream, he heard Olivia announce the commencement of the ceremony, welcome the guests, and invite the guardians of the four directions and the Lord and the Lady.

But Bruce could barely pay attention, for Loki stood in front of him like something out of a fairytale, his snowy skin bathed in sunlight, a few locks of his smoothed-back raven hair struggling for freedom. And this ceremony, which Bruce had kept telling himself was really just a show to celebrate a contract made for practical, legal reasons—it was ridiculous. He loved Loki without a paper, without rings, and certainly without cosplayers and acrobats. And yet—standing up there with Loki—it was like reading something he’d known all along but had never been able to put into words.

He snapped to when it was time for them to say their vows. They had kept them secret from each other. Loki’s chest lifted as he took Bruce’s hands. His eyes sparkled as he stared into Bruce’s.

“My sweet, incredible Bruce,” said Loki, drawing out each word for dramatic effect, “I vow to always be as honest with you as I can.”

“Eel!” said Brokk.

Bruce cowed the heckler with an angry look and a flare of his nostrils.

Loki continued. “I promise to take care of you when I’m able to do so. I vow not to leave my socks and underwear in the kitchen unless we’re having sex there or I forget I left them there. I promise to keep my temper in check, unless I can’t. I vow to fill your life with surprises.” He smirked. “I promise not to wake you with Dutch ovens—unless you’ve made that dreadful stew with the cabbage and black beans, in which case you’ve asked for it—but I won’t hold you under the covers too long.”

Tony leaned close and whispered in Bruce’s ear, “One word, bro, and I’ll fly you out of this.”

With a grin, Bruce elbowed him away.

Loki had paused, scowling, at the interruption. “Are you two done?”

“No,” said Tony.

“Yes,” said Bruce. He glared at Tony whose mouth was open to say ‘no’ again.

“Yes,” Tony said. “Continue.”

Loki shot him a peevish glance. But he smiled as his gaze returned to Bruce. “I vow to be on your side most of the time. And I pledge to you the entirety of my heart for the rest of my life.” His eyes threatened tears. “That one, Bruce, is ironclad—no wiggle room, no clauses.”

Bruce felt stunned and was thankful when Loki shook his hands a little, rocking him back to reality. “It’s your turn,” Loki whispered, his eyes bright and his forehead creased with encouragement as if he were coaching a child in a school play.

Bruce froze. He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he found Loki’s deeply worried ones peering back at him. Loki’s thumbs caressed his hands. Bruce smiled, gave Loki’s hands a gentle squeeze and said, “My beloved Loki, I promise to always look for the best in you and to accept you as you are, to always acknowledge your potential and your worth.”

Loki’s eyes watered. Bruce squeezed his hands reassuringly. “I promise to be patient and compassionate. I promise to always be there when you need me, and I promise to never let you fall.”

Bruce paused to swallow the lump in his throat. The tears shimmering in Loki’s eyes were almost more than he could bear.

“I love you,” Loki whispered.

Bruce smiled at him. “I will listen to you even when I disagree. I will celebrate what we have in common and value our differences. I will smash anyone who hurts you.” He threw the Asgardian delegation a hard glare. But his breath almost caught as his gaze returned to Loki, whose eyes were liquid love. “Loki, I will love you to my last existing particle.”

Loki huffed a tear-choked laugh. “Fucking Bruce!” He yanked Bruce close by both hands and gave him a desperate, hungering kiss.

Olivia tapped them on the shoulders. “We’re not there yet.”

“Let’s get there then!” Loki said testily.

Olivia smiled at him a moment, then proceeded with the ceremony. They each agreed to be the other’s husband and exchanged their emerald and gold wedding bands. And then Olivia raised her arms over her head in a slight arc and announced in a booming voice, “I now pronounce you legally married in the state of New York!”

Bruce grabbed Loki by the nape of his neck and kissed him feverishly. Loki giggled as they kissed, grinding his lissome body against Bruce with boundless exuberance. With reluctance, Bruce pried himself away. Before he could say anything, Loki said, “We can’t fuck out here.”

“No, I’m sorry.” He grinned. “But we’ll fuck later.”

“Our first married fuck,” said Loki, who liked to keep track of all of their first things. As if on cue, The Flaming Lips’ _Be My Head_ began blasting from the speakers near the stage.

“This isn’t the song we picked,” said Bruce.

“Surprise!” said Loki.

“ _Be my head, and I’ll be yours_ —you know that’s a double entendre, right?”

“I double intended it.”

“It could even be triple, really.”

Loki grinned hugely. “I’ll make sure to explain it to everyone at the reception—especially Jen.”

Pepper scooped up Daenerys and gave Loki a quick kiss. Tony wrapped an arm around her waist. Bruce thought they looked very cute with Loki’s chicken and hoped someone caught a picture of them. He had little time to think of much else, however, for Loki snapped him like a wet towel and jerked him to his chest. “Watch it,” Bruce warned. “I’m going to hurt you later.”

“I’m counting on it,” Loki purred.

Bruce laughed. They danced off the stage together, into the arms of family and friends, and into a legally married and happy life.

The End

  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Spa Day/Honeymoon?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5859856) by [IceNChrome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceNChrome/pseuds/IceNChrome)




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